


Seas Between Us

by enigmaticblue



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-03
Updated: 2005-05-03
Packaged: 2017-10-08 01:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 54,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in an alternate Angel S5, wherein Andrew tells Buffy that Spike's alive after Damage and she does something about it, upsetting the power structure while she's at it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crossing Oceans

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place after Bring Out Your Dead, and may make a little more sense if you read that one first. The thing to notice is that Lindsey does not enter into this story. I didn't want to deal with the boy since I'm mostly ignoring canon. Just so you aren't terribly surprised.

**“We two have run about the hills/And pulled the daisies fine:/But we have wandered many a weary foot/Since auld lang syne./We two have waded in the stream/from dawn to dinner time:/But seas between us broad have roared/Since auld lang syne./And there’s a hand my trusty friend!/And give me a hand o’ thine!/And we will take a large draught/For auld lang syne.” ~Old Scottish ballad**

“How are you feeling?”

Spike hadn’t been expecting any other visitors. Angel had dropped by right after the Wolfram &amp; Hart docs sewed/magicked his hands back on. Fred had popped her head in, and Wesley had already come by once. Seeing Wes for a second time surprised him.

Although, his melancholy mood might have had more to do with that than anything about the ex-Watcher. Seeing Andrew again had put Spike’s within arm’s length of Buffy in a sense, and he was missing her again. And feeling less than worthy of her.

It wasn’t a pleasant feeling. Spike usually tried to bury those insecurities as deeply as possible.

To have Wesley come by for a second time felt good. It felt as though the other man actually cared, rather than performing the visit out of duty.

“Better,” Spike admitted, looking down at his hands. They were mostly working as he wanted them to, but he still had a ways to go yet. He was damn lucky they’d been able to sew them back on at all. “Feel like a bit of an idiot still.”

“You couldn’t know what she would do, Spike,” Wesley pointed out. “I don’t think any of us were aware of what she might be capable of.”

“Doesn’t make it much better,” Spike replied. “I was s’posed to be helpin’ her. Instead, Angel had to come to my rescue.”

Wesley’s lips twisted into a smile at the distaste in Spike’s voice and face. Spike and Angel still weren’t getting along. He had to admit that he found their spats highly amusing at this point. “When are they discharging you?”

The vampire shrugged. “Dunno. ‘s not like I really have any place to go. Might as well stay here just for the bed.”

Wesley frowned. It wasn’t right that Spike was still without a place to live. The rest of them all had a home, either in the Wolfram &amp; Hart building or elsewhere. “Why couldn’t you stay at the hotel?”

Spike looked back at him sharply. He’d managed to get back into his clothing, which was an improvement over the hospital gown they’d insisted he wear. It allowed him to stand at the window, where he didn’t feel so closed in. “What hotel?”

Wesley knew that Angel had kept the Hyperion. Angel had, in fact, made certain that it was paid off and free from meddling. He had no idea why the new CEO of Wolfram &amp; Hart had felt it necessary to keep a building they never used, but it was there and it was empty.

Briefly, Wesley wondered why Angel wouldn’t have informed Spike about it. “The hotel, which was our headquarters, before we came here,” he explained. “It’s not being used, and there’s plenty of room.”

Spike hesitated and then shook his head. “’s Angel’s place. It’d piss him off if I was stayin’ there.”

“So?”

That one word stiffened Spike’s spine as he realized exactly what he’d just said. Using the hotel would royally piss his grandsire off. It would also give him a base of operations. Spike was tired of sitting around on his duff, with little purpose. Wesley had sent him on a few errands—Spike thought it was probably out of pity—but it wasn’t enough.

He needed to be doing something. If he had his own place, maybe he could.

“Where is it?”

“I can take you,” Wesley offered. “It might be best if you not drive yourself for a while.” He hesitated. “If you’d like to stay at my place until you’re fully recovered, you’d be more than welcome, Spike. It’s the least I can do.”

“It’s more than anyone else has done,” Spike replied dryly.

Wesley smiled. “Yes, well, I still need to repay you for introducing me to Monty Python. A few nights on my couch will hardly cover it.”

Spike grinned and shook his head. “We’re still not caught up.”

“No, we’re not,” Wesley replied. “Good thing I was planning on making it an early night. Are you ready?”

“What, now?” Spike asked, surprised. Then he shrugged. “Why the bloody hell not? The smell of this place was beginnin’ to drive me crazy anyway.”

~~~~~

Buffy leaned back into her seat on the airplane, forcing herself to relax. She still couldn’t quite believe she was doing this. Jumping in a plane, flying back to L.A., with no plans other than to see Spike.

The Slayer was grateful for Andrew’s inability to keep his mouth shut for once. She hadn’t even minded his announcement that Giles had suggested he stay in Rome for a while. Any other time and Buffy would have been on the phone to her former Watcher posthaste, demanding that he re-assign Andrew. Possibly to Madagascar. That seemed like it might be far enough away.

It didn’t matter, because she was on her way to L.A., and she wouldn’t be seeing the pest. Buffy would be assuring herself that Spike was in one piece with all parts accounted for.

If he wasn’t, she was going to kick some ass, big-time.

Buffy still wasn’t sure how it had all happened—events had moved so quickly. Andrew had called, crowing over his success at retrieving Dana, and Buffy had only been half-listening. In fact, she’d tuned him out completely until what he was saying finally registered. Something about “Spike at his side, still striving for redemption, separated from the woman he loved,” blah, blah, blah.

It had been the use of the present tense in that part of the story that had finally caught her attention. Andrew had obviously been hit on the head really hard, but when Buffy had stopped the boy and reminded him that Spike was dead, he’d blurted out the first thing that came into his mind.

“No, he’s not! I’m not crazy, and it wasn’t the First! Dana chopped off his hands.”

That little tidbit was too wild for even Andrew to have made up, and Buffy had started pumping him for information. Fifteen minutes later she had hung up the phone, started packing a bag, and called Giles to let him know where she would be.

Giles had suggested that perhaps she wait until they could discover a little more about Spike and what he was up to, but Buffy was beyond caring at this point. If he was alive, she wanted to see him. End of story. Don’t argue.

When Giles had tried arguing a little more, Buffy pointed out very calmly that as he had tried to kill Spike without her knowledge, she wasn’t inclined to trust him at all. Not where it concerned the vampire anyway.

So Giles had wished her a safe trip, and hung up.

Buffy still winced when she thought about what a shambles their relationship had become. She wasn’t quite sure when everything had changed, or even why. One day Giles was there, solid as bedrock. The next day he’d turned into quicksand, ready to destroy the one person who was keeping her sane.

These days, Buffy was less inclined to let anyone do that to her.

She had stayed at the apartment just long enough to let Dawn know what was going on and where she was going. Her sister had scribbled off a note and asked Buffy to give it to Spike. Then Dawn had hugged her and said, “You do what makes you happy, Buffy.”

It had been enough.

Still, Buffy now found herself on a transatlantic flight with no idea of what she’d find when she arrived. There was every possibility that Spike had managed to move on, or that he wasn’t interested in her anymore. They had never really spoken about their relationship.

She hadn’t given him the chance.

“Maybe when,” she’d said, holding hope just out of his reach. Buffy really had believed that either they would both die or they would both live. The possibility of Spike dying had never crossed her mind. Buffy had done the same to Angel, knowing at the time that it was horribly unfair.

It wasn’t Angel. It would never be Angel again. Spike, on the other hand, had a fighting chance.

If she’d had it to do all over again, Buffy would have taken Spike right there on the kitchen floor and damn the consequences. She would have told him then that she loved him, that she wanted to be with him, that they were both going to make it out.

Buffy would have made Spike promise to survive.

But, no. She’d chickened out, and as a result, Buffy had watched him dust—or start to.

In the last few months, Buffy had managed to convince herself that Spike had known she loved him. He had believed her, but he’d said what he had to get her out of that cave.

Knowing that he was back and hadn’t told her—that he’d been back for a while—made Buffy think that she’d been lying to herself again. Spike hadn’t believed her, and thus he hadn’t tried to find her.

Which brought her full circle, thanking her lucky stars that Andrew never had been able to withhold information.

Maybe there was a God.

Now she was on a plane, not knowing where Spike was or how he was doing, with only a small overnight bag and no return ticket. Buffy didn’t know where she was staying, or who with, or even what she hoped to accomplish.

If Spike didn’t want to come to Rome with her, would she stay in L.A.? If he did come with her, would he fit into their lives?

Should she even be doing this?

They were questions to which she had no answers.

~~~~~

“Nice place,” Spike commented as he entered Wesley’s apartment. It seemed to suit the ex-Watcher with its piles of books and slightly gloomy décor.

Wesley shrugged. “I don’t use it much these days,” he confessed. “I haven’t ever really except for—” He stopped, unable to remember when it was he’d spent nearly all his time at his apartment, but just knowing that he had. He shook off the feeling in the next moment.

Spike wandered over to the TV, raising an eyebrow at the electronic equipment. “A Playstation, huh? Didn’t know you were into that.”

“I’m not,” the other man replied quickly. At Spike’s smirk, Wesley realized it was hopeless. “Gunn and I used to play,” he finally admitted. “Sometimes Angel and Fred. Before—” He stopped again, wondering before what because he couldn’t remember. It must have been before his relationship with Gunn had faltered as a result of their rivalry over Fred.

Spike started flipping through Wesley’s games, noting that he had some good ones. “Too bad my digits aren’t workin’ like they should,” he said, pulling out _Mortal Kombat_ with a grin. “I’d kick your arse.”

“That’s what you would like to believe,” Wesley returned, joining in the familiar banter. He’d known how to do this once upon a time. He had been able to joke with the best of them, holding his own. His mood had been so dreary for so long it was a relief. “I’ll have you know that I’m an expert at mortal combat.”

It was a deliberate play on words, and Spike’s lips quirked upwards at the meaning. “Is that right? I think I’ll have to see it to believe it.”

“As soon as you have full use of your hands,” Wesley replied. “I wouldn’t want it to be said that I took advantage of an invalid.”

“Not invalid,” Spike returned. “’s merely work-related injuries. I’ll be right as rain in another day or two.”

A silence fell. “You were lucky.”

“I know.” Spike looked down at his hands. He couldn’t seem to stop doing that, as though he needed to continually double-check to ensure they were there and attached. “You heard anything about that Slayer, then?”

Wesley shook his head. “No, and I doubt we will. Andrew seemed certain that our involvement with Wolfram &amp; Hart disqualified us from being on the side of good.”

“Doesn’t it, though?” Spike asked. “No offense, mate, but that place isn’t good for you. It’ll suck your soul faster than a Fyarl shoots snot.”

It was an interesting analogy. Wesley paused a moment over that image before he replied. “We have more resources. I’m sure that once we get settled—”

“You’ve been there how long?” Spike asked. “You’re as settled as your gonna get. This really what you want to be doin’ for the rest of your life?”

It wasn’t. Spike had once again managed to see clear to the heart of the issue. Wesley was already tired of the routine, tired of the paperwork. At first, he had been able to maintain the belief that they could make a difference from the inside. Perhaps they would cause the beast to implode, or even better, turn its evil for good.

Wolfram &amp; Hart was too big, though. A few people were just more grist for the mill, no matter how highly placed they might be. He wanted out, in a way, and Wesley had begun to thank his lucky stars that he’d never signed a contract.

He wondered if any of the others had.

They had all followed Angel into the belly of the beast, lured by things that were sure to appeal to their various weaknesses—or strengths. Not for the first time did Wesley wonder what exactly it had been that Angel received in exchange for taking the position.

“No, it’s not.” Spike was one of the few people he could be honest with, Wesley thought. The vampire wouldn’t accuse him of selling out, or demand that he promise to stay. Spike wouldn’t try to place a load of guilt on his shoulders for his thoughts. “I honestly don’t know what I want these days, Spike. It’s not this, but I’m not sure what else it would be.”

“Fred?”

Wesley shot him a dirty look. “For once, Fred doesn’t enter into this. I would like to see her beyond the reach of Wolfram &amp; Hart, but that is a decision that she will have to make on her own. Unlike some, I respect her right to make those choices.”

“Unlike who?” Spike asked, sensing a good load of gossip.

Wesley hesitated. “Last year, Fred discovered that her professor was the one responsible for sending her to Pylea.” He waited until Spike’s nod told him that the vampire had heard at least some of the story. “She wanted revenge. Angel and Gunn were going to prevent her from going after him herself. I told her what she was getting into and the likely results, and then I let her go.”

“Big of you,” Spike commented blandly. “Are you sure that wasn’t to show up the other two?”

Wesley’s smile was sardonic. “A little. I have always respected Fred’s ability to choose for herself, however. It was one of the reasons I didn’t fight it when she chose Gunn, and why I’m not pursuing her now.”

Spike wasn’t so certain that Fred wouldn’t be amenable to Wesley’s advances at this point, but he had decided to keep his mouth shut. They were both his friends, and until he had a better idea of Fred’s feelings for the Englishman, it would be better to keep his nose out of it.

Of course, if he did find out that she had a yen for the man, Spike was more than willing to stir things up.

“Right then. It’s your decision, mate.”

“Bloody right it is,” Wesley replied. Tired of the discussion and the direction it was going, he changed the subject. “Did you still want to watch a movie? I have a few to choose from.”

Spike raised an eyebrow as he looked through Wesley’s collection, unimpressed. “This is right pathetic, you know that?” He pulled out _Notting Hill_. “You own this?”

“Cordy liked that one,” Wesley said quietly. “She always wanted to rent it, and after a while I bought a copy just so she could watch it when she was here.”

Spike’s face softened, the derision changing to understanding. “You want to watch it, then? For old times sake, like.”

Wesley nodded quietly, appreciating Spike’s sensitivity and his willingness to indulge a friend his time of remembrance. “For old time’s sake,” he agreed.

Spike nodded, and then smirked. “But we’re watchin’ something manly right after, you hear? I won’t be polluting my brain with this shite if I can’t purge it after.”

Wesley smiled. “I also have the _Lethal Weapon_ movies,” he said. “Will that be manly enough for you?”

“Might do,” Spike agreed. “That might just do.”


	2. Little Did I Know

**“Little did I know/that I almost let you go/Until I caught a glimpse of life/without you./ Little did I know/how deep these roots had grown/Until I felt the earth quake here/without you./And this ache is gonna break me love/until you come back home./Right or wrong/there is no home without you…” ~Over the Rhine, “Little Did I Know”**

Buffy had decided to postpone the confrontation. It had been late by the time her flight had landed, and the last thing she wanted was to get into a fight.

Not that she planned on fighting with Spike, but there was probably no way to avoid seeing Angel.

Giles had warned her about Wolfram &amp; Hart. They were apparently irredeemably evil, and for Angel to be working there indicated that he’d gone over to the dark side. Buffy honestly didn’t have an opinion. Maybe Angel had gone over to the dark side. She wasn’t sure she cared, as long as she wasn’t the one who had to stop him.

It was harder to care about that sort of thing these days. Deep down, Buffy knew that the battle with the First should have been her last. She should have died. Involvement in the new Council or with the new Slayers, which the others seemed to have embraced with renewed vigor, left Buffy cold.

Not that she was completely apathetic. She and Dawn were not only getting along these days, but they were bonding. She was keeping in touch with the others through various means both magical and technological. Buffy had even been known to troll the streets of Rome at night, hunting for vampires.

She just didn’t much care for the big end of the world stuff anymore. The Slayer felt she’d earned a break from apocalypses.

So here she stood in front of a huge office building after a less-than-restful night at a hotel, her stomach twisting into knots. Buffy very nearly turned and ran in the opposite direction.

Maybe Rodeo Drive was a better idea.

Buffy set her jaw. She’d come to L.A. to see Spike. She had faced down the First Evil and lived to tell the tale. She could face a couple of ex-boyfriends and come out on top. All she had to do was march in there, find Angel, and make him tell her where Spike was.

Piece of cake.

Right?

~~~~~

Wesley was wishing that he’d stayed home. He had left Spike sleeping on his couch, and he couldn’t help but envy the vampire who had no reason to be at Wolfram &amp; Hart unless it was to annoy Angel.

Angel, who was being his typical obtuse self.

Wesley sighed. “I told you, Angel. This is important.”

“I have other things to worry about, Wes,” Angel growled impatiently. “Do what you have to do to take care of it.”

Wesley sighed, rubbing his eyes. It was the same old song. Angel was too busy to listen, too busy to care, even when half the employees were up in arms over a slight that had been made to some rather important demons. Apparently, one of the human employees had told a “your mama” joke to a Tek’lat demon, whose mothers were revered as gods.

The ensuing fight hadn’t been pretty.

Lorne had been off with a client, and Gunn had been negotiating contracts, so Wesley had very little help settling things down. (Wesley was avoiding Fred like the plague, so he didn’t know if she would have assisted him or not.) He found that he was being asked to settle things like this more often, and he detested it.

Wesley would have much preferred to stick to his books.

He was about to broach the subject of the Hyperion with Angel—without bringing Spike’s name into things—when there was a commotion outside the door. Wesley straightened, his eyes brightening with interest. Perhaps if something smacked Angel in the face the vampire would sit up and pay attention.

“The boss is in a meeting! You can’t go in there!” The last word ended on a squeak, and Wesley wondered who had managed to get past Harmony. She did try very hard.

He didn’t have to wonder for long. The door was flung open and a woman Wesley recognized immediately stalked through. “Where is he, Angel?” she demanded without preamble.

Wesley leaned back in his chair, watching Buffy with interest. She had stopped in L.A. briefly after the battle with the First, although the group hadn’t stayed long and he hadn’t spoken to her personally. He’d noticed only that she appeared tired and worn, and with a Watcher’s eye he could see that not much had changed now.

Wesley wondered what that meant for Spike’s theory that Buffy hadn’t really cared about him.

“Where’s who?” Angel asked, playing dumb. There really was only one person Buffy could be asking him about.

“Spike, Angel. Where is he?”

“Now, Buffy—”

“Don’t do that!” she spat out. Buffy had managed to work herself into a frenzy on the elevator ride up, knowing that she’d need the energy to deal with either or both of her exes. In the end, she’d come to only one conclusion. It was all Angel’s fault. She had told him of the final battle, he’d watched her cry over Spike, and he’d still said nothing about Spike’s return.

Angel should have at least had the decency to call her, especially since he was the one who knew where she was.

“Don’t do what?” he asked, looking hurt.

Buffy nearly snarled. “Don’t patronize me,” she replied. “I know Spike is here somewhere. Andrew told me. So don’t go giving me that innocent act, because I know you know where he is.”

“Actually, I don’t,” Angel said, trying to keep his voice calm. He was feeling rather attacked, and for no reason. It wasn’t his fault the bleached pest had decided not to contact the Slayer. Or, _a_ Slayer now, but they would both always think of Buffy as _the_ Slayer.

“I do,” Wesley said quietly, knowing that Buffy probably hadn’t even noticed his presence.

Buffy turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. She had caught glimpses of Wesley that summer when they’d passed through L.A., but hadn’t gotten a good look. Buffy remembered now that Faith had made a comment about the changes their ex-Watcher had made, and she had to agree.

The man had turned out to be a hottie. That was new.

“Wait, you know where Spike is?” Angel asked. “You didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t ask,” Wesley replied easily. Looking back at Buffy, he said, “Spike’s staying with me until he fully recovers. I could give you a ride over there if you’d like.”

Angel frowned. “Wait a minute. That’s all you’re going to say, Buffy? You’re not even going to give me a hello?”

She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t come here to say hello, Angel. I came here to see Spike. And if you’d done me the courtesy of letting me know he was back from the dead, I might think about being more polite. As it is, you’re just lucky I’m not kicking your ass right now. Let’s go, Wes.”

She marched out, obviously expecting Wesley to follow her. He stood slowly, a smile playing around the corners of his lips. Well, that had been refreshing.

“What about this mess with the Tek’lats?” Angel demanded. “Aren’t you going to handle it?”

“I’m in charge of archives and research, Angel, not human resources.” Wesley smiled. “I think you’ll do just fine.”

He followed Buffy out, putting a gentlemanly hand at her back to show her to the elevators. “How was your flight?” he asked politely.

“Long,” was her reply. “You’re looking good, Wes. I like the new look.”

“Thank you.” He punched the button for the parking garage. “You’re not looking too bad yourself.”

Neither of them saw a concerned Fred staring after them, or the jealousy in her eyes.

~~~~~

Buffy decided that she wasn’t surprised when she saw Wesley’s SUV. It wasn’t just Faith’s comments—and Willow’s now that she thought about it—it was his attitude. Wesley just radiated confidence.

How the hell had that happened?

“Is he okay?” Buffy asked as soon as they got into the car.

“Spike?”

“Yeah.” She hesitated. “Andrew said he’d been hurt.”

“We have some very skilled people at Wolfram &amp; Hart,” Wesley commented. “They were able to sew his hands back on. Spike should be good as new in another couple of days.”

Buffy was quiet. “How is he otherwise? I mean, he hasn’t called.”

“You’ll have to talk to him about that,” Wesley replied quietly. “This hasn’t been easy for him.”

Buffy wanted to reply that it hadn’t been easy for her either—but that wasn’t fair. She well remembered the months of disorientation coming back from the dead had caused—and not just the resurrection. It had been hard to come back the first time, and she’d only been gone for a couple of minutes.

She had no idea what Spike had gone through in the last few months, but she knew what had come before, and she knew what had happened in that cavern.

He hadn’t believed her after all.

That would change.

“No, it probably hasn’t,” was all she said. After a few moments, Buffy asked, “Why Wolfram and Hart, Wes? Giles seemed pretty convinced that it couldn’t be anything good. Is Spike involved there? I couldn’t get a clear answer from Andrew.”

Actually, it was more that she hadn’t waited for a clear answer from Andrew.

Wesley blinked, trying to sort out the questions from the comments and decide which to answer first. “We took over the law firm because we thought we would be able to accomplish more with the resources at our disposal.”

“You don’t sound very sure of that right now.” Buffy’s sharp ears had caught his hesitation.

He sighed. “That’s because I’m not, although I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do about it right now. As for Spike, he’s connected in some way, but not by choice. The amulet I believe he wore to close the Hellmouth was sent to Angel. When he opened the package, Spike appeared. Andrew did tell you he was a ghost for a while, didn’t he?”

“I didn’t let him get that far,” Buffy admitted.

Wesley, knowing Buffy’s impatience, merely smiled. “Yes, well, Spike got a box in the mail, something flashed, and he was solid again. We’re still not sure how it happened, or what might have been behind it.”

“What if he wanted to leave? Would he be able to?”

“There’s nothing holding him here, Buffy,” Wesley replied, pulling up in front of his apartment building. “At least, nothing such as what you’re talking about.”

She wanted to ask if he knew why Spike hadn’t come to her. Buffy knew that it would have been possible to at least pick up the phone and call. Wesley had been right, however. That was something she would have to ask the vampire.

Wesley handed her a key. “To the apartment,” he explained. “There isn’t much room, but you are both welcome to stay there.”

She shook her head, grateful for his offer. “I don’t think so, Wes, but thanks. I’ve still got my hotel room.”

“How long will you stay?” he asked.

Buffy hesitated and then sighed. “As long as it takes, I guess.” Although she didn’t elaborate, Wesley understood. There were some things that didn’t have a timeline.

~~~~~

Spike had given up on the video games after a while. His fingers were mostly working, but he needed to be in tip-top condition to survive in _Mortal Kombat_. Even Spike could get tired of losing.

There was little else to do in Wesley’s apartment besides read, and he couldn’t seem to concentrate on any of the available books. Spike wished he’d gone to the office with the ex-Watcher. At least then he would have been able to annoy Angel for a while.

That was about all he was good for these days.

Spike shook his head, angry with himself. He was brooding, and he never brooded. That was Angel’s job description, not his. That Slayer, the crazy one, had shaken him up more than a little bit. Spike had gotten a chance to see himself through her eyes, and even though he wasn’t the man she’d thought he was, it didn’t really matter. As he’d told Angel, he could have been. He had done some truly horrible things.

It didn’t do any good to brood, though. Feeling sorry for himself wasn’t going to change anything.

The knock on the door surprised him. Spike hadn’t thought Wesley received many visitors. He opened the door without looking and stared at what he saw.

“Buffy?”

“Hey.”

It was impossible. She wasn’t supposed to come to him. Even if Andrew had told her, Spike would have thought she moved on. Wasn’t that what she was supposed to do?

“Buffy.”

“That would be me.” The Slayer had vacillated between being calm, cool and collected and throwing herself into his arms. At the moment, she was still trying to decide because Spike didn’t appear to be all that welcoming. Had he gotten over her after all?

“What are you doing here?” he finally asked.

Hurt flashed across Buffy’s face. “I’m here to see you.”

“Why?” Spike asked, sounding bewildered.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Does the Hellmouth ring a bell, Spike? Big, flame-y vampire? Me saying I loved said vampire?” She tapped her foot impatiently, beginning to think that she needed to be action-girl. “Are you going to invite me in?”

Of course, out of respect to Wesley, they probably needed to take the action back to her hotel.

Spike stood aside, silently asking her to enter. “Did Andrew tell you?”

“Yes, he did,” Buffy replied. “It’s a good thing too, because I’m beginning to think that I would never have known.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“‘I’m back’ would have worked,” Buffy shot back. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Spike scowled, angry that she was already putting him on the defensive. “I was thinkin’ that I went out a hero an’ then I came back! I didn’t know what you’d say!”

Toe-to-toe with him, Buffy got right up in his face, glad that he was barefoot and she was wearing her high-heeled boots. It allowed her to be nearly nose to nose without standing on tip-toe, which would have ruined the whole effect. “I told you I loved you, you big, dumb vampire!”

“Right after you’d been kissin’ Peaches!” Spike shot back. “How the bloody hell was I supposed to know you meant it!”

“Because I did!” Buffy wanted to cry at this point. Spike was supposed to be the one who saw right through her down to the heart of things. He was supposed to just look in her eyes and know. “I loved you.” Her voice softened. “You weren’t supposed to die. We were supposed to have more time.”

Spike took a step back. “Buffy—”

“Remember I said ‘maybe when?’” she asked. “Well, now is when.”

She was close enough to touch. That’s what got Spike. He’d dreamed of this moment, of course. It had always ended with them making love, with declarations of undying devotion. He’d dreamed it so often at this point that he wasn’t sure this was real. “What are you sayin’?”

Buffy decided the time for words was over. She kissed him. Full-on lips, tongues, hands holding him tightly, fingers tangling in the curls at his neckline. His hair was too slicked back, and so she made sure to muss it up with her questing fingers.

She felt it when he gave in, when Spike relaxed into her embrace. His fingers tightened around her waist, bringing her body flush against his. His lips and tongue forced her to move a little slower, and once Buffy felt him respond, she knew she could take her time.

They would get that time they deserved.

When Buffy finally broke off the kiss to breathe, she leaned back, staring up at him. “I’m saying that I meant every single word in the sense in which I don’t want you to go anywhere ever again.”

Spike frowned, still not quite able to believe it. His dreams did not come true, and this was feeling a lot like that. “Say it again,” he demanded.

“I love you.” Buffy raised an eyebrow. “And if you ever tell me I don’t again, I will kick your ass six ways from Sunday.”


	3. What I Remember

**“The biggest lies are the little ones/when the look in your eyes is the distant one/Angel or demon/you know that they can share the same bed/I’ve laid awake so long/I’ve got them both inside my head/This is what I remember most about dying/So many moments like ghosts/slipping through my hands in vain/You were 80% angel/10% demon/and the rest was hard to explain…” ~Over the Rhine, “What I’ll Remember Most”**

Fred paused outside Wesley’s office, trying to figure out how to word her question. She was dying to know who the girl was—the one she’d seen Wesley getting into the elevator with, all friendly-like. Fred was sure she’d never seen the woman before, and she didn’t know why Wesley would be with her.

Her feelings about Wes were rather mixed at the moment. Fred knew that he loved her. What he had done for her—killing the thing that wore his father’s face—without even a moment’s hesitation—

Well, it both scared the daylights out of her and made her stomach feel all fluttery. What did a girl do with that kind of love?

The hard part was that Fred had never really looked at Wesley that way. He’d always been Wesley—strong, dependable, sweet. Then he sprang his feelings on her, and Fred could look back and see signs that he’d had strong feelings for a while. Wes had simply hidden them from her, and Fred wasn’t sure if that made him a consummate actor or suggested that her woman’s intuition was out of whack.

For a short time there had been Knox. Fred had dabbled; she could admit it. It had become obvious that having anything other than a professional relationship with an employee could be very bad, though.

Wesley was different.

So now she wanted to know who that girl had been without letting on to the fact that she was jealous. Fred still wanted to keep her feelings close to her chest, at least until she had them figured out.

The perfect excuse finally occurred to her, and Fred wondered why she hadn’t thought of it earlier. She knocked, waiting for Wesley’s voice to call, “Come in.”

She saw it in his eyes as he looked up. He wasn’t precisely happy to see her, and she tried to hide her wince. Things had become so strained between all of them. He had hidden his emotions behind a smile in the next moment. “Can I help you, Fred?”

“I was wondering if you knew where Spike was,” she replied innocently. “I thought I might see if I could cheer him up today.”

Wesley leaned back, putting his pencil down so he could give Fred his full attention. This was the first time since the affair with the cyborg that she had visited his office. “He’s at my apartment, actually. I thought he might like to get out of here for a change.”

“Oh.” Thinking about it now, Fred felt badly that she hadn’t done the same. Not that she would have been comfortable allowing Spike to stay at her apartment, but still. She could have done something more for him. Instead, once he’d become solid, she had gotten caught up in her own life again. “He’s okay, isn’t he?”

Wesley shrugged. “I’m not certain. I imagine that would depend on what Buffy has to say.”

“Oh!” Fred exclaimed. “That was the woman you were with!” She turned bright red when Wesley raised an eyebrow, obviously catching the lingering emotion in her tone. An emotion he didn’t quite recognize. “I saw you getting on the elevator earlier,” she explained quickly.

“And you were curious?” Wesley asked quietly. “Of course. Well, Buffy was here to see Spike. I’m not sure I want to know what they’re doing in my apartment right now, whether everything is going well or not.”

Fred giggled. “Hopefully your furniture won’t suffer too much.”

Wesley’s smile was pained. “I was trying not to think about that.”

She grinned again, and then her smile faded to be replaced by a more thoughtful look. “Are you hungry?”

Wesley blinked. “What?”

“Are you hungry?” she repeated patiently. “Because I’m starving. I was thinking I might try to find some tacos.”

He frowned slightly and then decided that he didn’t have anything better to do. “I could eat.”

“Good,” Fred replied. “I hate eating alone.”

Wesley winced, the memory of eating a TV dinner alone in his apartment stark. It must have been just after Fred and Gunn started dating. “Me too.”

~~~~~

The problem with big reunions was what came after. It wasn’t like either Buffy or Spike had much to tell the other. “So that’s it, huh?” Spike asked.

“There isn’t much more,” Buffy admitted. “I haven’t been into getting the new Council up and running. It’s mostly just been me and Dawn hanging in Rome.” That reminded her. “Oh, Dawn! She sent a note.”

Spike frowned, taking the piece of paper Buffy held out to him. “She sent this?”

“Yeah, when I told her I was coming out.” At the look on his face, she quickly said, “Dawn’s completely capable of looking after herself for a while.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know.” Buffy bit her lip. “I don’t have a return ticket yet.”

Spike drew in a deep, shuddering breath, opening the note and quickly scanning it. In Dawn’s familiar, untidy scrawl, he read, “I don’t hate you, and you’d better visit, or I will kick your ass.” He chuckled.

“Can I see?” He handed the note over to Buffy who read it and rolled her eyes. “That’s Dawnie,” she commented. “What do you think, Spike? You could come back to Rome with me.”

“I can’t.” The words were out of his mouth before Spike realized he meant them. And he did mean them. He couldn’t leave right now.

Buffy met his eyes, nodding slowly. “Okay.”

He was almost disappointed in how quickly she gave in. “Okay?”

“I told you I don’t have a return ticket,” Buffy replied quietly. “I can stay for a while. If you need to be in L.A., then I’ll stick around.”

“What about Dawn?” Spike asked, confused.

Buffy shrugged. “Like I said, Dawn will be fine. If I need to go back, I will, but long distance relationships are possible.”

Spike frowned, trying to figure out exactly what she meant. “You’re staying.”

“With you,” Buffy clarified. “If you want me,” she added in a small voice. “I mean, you haven’t said if—”

Spike shut her up with a kiss. “I want you,” he said firmly. “It’s just—‘m a bit aimless at the moment, pet. Don’t even have a proper place to stay.”

She leaned into him. “Then maybe that should be our first step. We can get you set up in a place of your own.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Apparently, Angel has a hotel. Wesley was thinkin’ I could use it. I thought—dunno. I thought maybe I could do somethin’ from there.” He sounded almost embarrassed as he added, “Help people, you know.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

Spike thought that Buffy sounded interested rather than derisive. “Dunno. What else am I gonna do?”

“Whatever you want,” Buffy replied with a smile.

He glanced over at her. “You don’t seem to have an opinion on this, pet.”

“The Hellmouth is closed, Spike. There are dozens, if not hundreds, of new Slayers ready and willing to fight the forces of evil.” She gave him a dazzling smile. “I’m retired.”

Spike grinned. “Bit young for that, aren’t you, luv?”

“I’ve died twice,” she reminded him. “So have you, for that matter.”

“They say the third time’s the charm,” he pointed out.

“Don’t even joke about that,” Buffy said fiercely. “I just got you back.”

“Buffy—” Spike had no idea what he had to offer her these days. Before he got his soul, it had been different. Spike had believed that he would be enough. Now, he wasn’t so sure. Buffy deserved so much more.

“Do you still love me?” Buffy asked point blank.

“With all my soul,” Spike confessed.

She nodded. “That’s enough.”

“Buffy, I have the clothes on my back an’ my coat. That’s it. Don’t even have a place to live. I don’t have anything to give you.”

She stared at him. “Haven’t you heard a word I’ve been saying?” she demanded. “I’ve spent the last few months believing that I would never see you again. All I want is you. The rest can wait.”

“You sure ‘bout that, luv? I mean, maybe you’d rather—”

Buffy put her hands on either side of her face. “Spike. Shut up.”

“Got it.”

They didn’t say much for a quite a while after that.

~~~~~

In the end, they brought their food back to the office. Wesley had something he wanted to work on, and Fred offered to get some of her own paperwork so that she could hang out with him. Wesley wasn’t quite sure what was going on. This was the most time Fred had spent with him since—

The memories kept sliding away from him, although it wasn’t something that Wesley actually noticed. The strange sense of missing something was there and then it wasn’t—almost before he noticed. So it was that every time something jogged his memory, something else kept Wesley from looking at it too closely.

In truth, Wesley didn’t want to ask too many questions. Fred seemed to be seeking out his company. It didn’t get much better than that.

Of course, he couldn’t quite believe it was happening.

“Are you sure Knox doesn’t need any help?”

Fred looked at him with wide eyes. “Why would Knox need any help?”

“Well, I thought perhaps that he might—need help. Or something.” Wesley knew it was lame as soon as the words came out of his mouth, but it was too late to pull them back in.

Fred frowned. “It’s fine, Wesley. They know where to find me, and Knox can handle the lab on his own for a while.”

“Oh, well, that’s good.”

Wesley wished he could come up with something more to say, but he didn’t have the words. He was trying to act as though everything was normal, but it wasn’t. Fred was in his office, eating tacos, more comfortable with him than she had been in a very long time.

He frowned as he flipped open a folder. “This is interesting.”

“What is?” Fred came over to look over his shoulder. Wesley could smell her faint perfume.

Wesley moved the pictures so that she could see better. “These attacks are highly unusual.”

Fred made a face. The picture was of a man who had a rather large hole in his stomach. “The liver was cut out? That’s creepy.”

“Mmm,” Wesley said absently, looking over the pertinent information avidly. It was more than creepy really. “This is something we ought to get on,” he said. “Apparently, this is not the first time this has happened, and it most likely won’t be the last.”

Fred’s hand crept onto his shoulder of its own accord. “Absolutely,” she agreed. “We ought to get on that right away.”

Maybe it would even take all night…

~~~~~

Gunn could feel it slipping away. All the knowledge, everything that made him special—it was disappearing.

For so long, he had been the muscle, the guy with the ax. He wasn’t even unique in that area since Angel was stronger and faster. Wesley was the one with the books, and Fred was the techno-brain, and Cordy was the glue that bound everything together.

He’d just been the leftovers.

It had been Gwen that clued him in to the fact that he could be more. Even though her methods had been slightly underhanded, she’d shown him something about himself. She’d shown him that he could be smart and savvy.

No, Gwen had shown him that he was smart and savvy. There was a difference.

Then Wolfram &amp; Hart had come along and offered him the chance to make it all real, to change his life. Gunn liked to believe that if life had been different, maybe he would have been a lawyer. He would have been the one to stick it to the Man.

Gunn would have done it on his own, if life hadn’t been such a bitch.

Now he was frantic with worry, fearing that he was going to lose everything.

There was no way he was going to go back.

~~~~~

Angel held Cordy’s lax hand in his own larger one. The machine registering her heartbeat bleeped—a constant, reassuring sound. Not even the excellent doctors at Wolfram &amp; Hart could tell him whether or not Cordy would ever wake up.

“Buffy came by today,” he said quietly. “She was looking for Spike. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that Andrew told her. It just makes it all that much more final, you know? We aren’t together anymore, and we never will be again.”

His thumb was rubbing slow circles on her hand. “I wish you could tell me what to do, Cordy. Being here—I don’t regret it. I can’t, not after what they did for Connor, but it’s all different. We’re so spread out. I never see the others anymore. I miss the days when we were a team.”

Angel rested his forehead on her bed. “I miss you,” he whispered.

He didn’t see her eyes pop open.


	4. Call You Mine

**“It’s only me in this flimsy dress/I could spread this love from the east to the west/My bed is made, the world’s a mess/Maybe we’ve got it backwards/Maybe we should just care less/I close my eyes, I see your face/Every inch of your skin I begin to retrace/Let me be the voice inside your head/Let me whisper/We can sleep when we are dead.” ~Over the Rhine, “Show Me”**

Eventually Spike slowed down their explorations, although it cost him something to do so. It had been over a year since the last time they’d had sex—and they had never made love. The closest they had come was the night that Riley had walked in on them, and Spike didn’t much like to think about that.

Like many of his memories, it hurt too damn much.

Buffy seemed as reluctant to slow down as he was, breaking off her kiss with a sigh that sounded like it came from her toes. “We probably should take this somewhere else,” she said wryly. “Poor Wes would never forgive us if he found out we—used his couch.”

An evil smile lifted the corners of Spike’s lips. “Oh, I fully intend on givin’ the Watcher a full report of whatever we do with—or on—his furniture.”

Buffy slapped him half-heartedly on the chest. “Don’t be a pig, Spike.”

“So we’re back to name-calling now, are we, pet?” he asked with a lifted eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes. “Only when you mention describing my sex life to my former Watcher. That’s just gross.”

Spike’s smile faded a bit. “You think we should wait for a bit?”

“Do you want to wait?” Buffy asked. It was rather obvious that he wanted her, so that wasn’t a problem.

He shrugged. “Dunno. Just don’t want to be leapin’ into things is all.”

“Spike, we spent all of last year not ‘leaping into things.’ I think some leaping is warranted at this point.” Buffy frowned. “Unless there’s some other problem I should know about.”

Spike looked highly affronted. “There’s no problem,” he said darkly. “Just—I can hardly believe this is all real,” he confessed. “I dreamed about this so many bloody times, an’ now—”

“I’m here,” Buffy said. “I’m not going anywhere unless I have to.”

Spike nodded, understanding. She had dropped everything and flown halfway around the globe, but that didn’t mean Buffy didn’t have obligations that she might need to attend to. “Right.”

“Well, I do need to do some shopping,” Buffy said thoughtfully. “I’ll probably have Dawn fly to L.A. on her next break from school, and she can bring some of my stuff then, but I’ll need a few things to tide me over.”

Spike appeared curious. “What kinds of things, luv?”

“Pretty much everything,” Buffy admitted ruefully. “I threw a few things in a bag and was on the next flight out. There wasn’t much time to pack.”

Spike stared at her. “What did you bring with you?”

“A couple changes of clothes, my makeup, the essentials,” Buffy listed. “Why?”

His eyebrows had disappeared into his hairline. “How many pairs of shoes?”

“One essential pair of black boots,” Buffy said, holding up one foot to demonstrate. “Spike, what—”

Her question was cut off by his incredibly enthusiastic kiss. He literally pounced on her, and while Buffy wasn’t complaining one bit, she couldn’t figure out what had flipped the switch. “Mmph, Spike,” she said once he let her breathe. “What was that for?” she asked, her eyes slightly dazed.

“You brought one pair of shoes,” he pointed out. “An’ you’re wearing ‘em.”

“So?”

His expression was incredulous. “You only brought one pair of boots! That oughta be impossible!”

Spike’s eyes were as gleeful as a boy’s who had just gotten exactly what he wanted for Christmas. Buffy finally caught on. He knew her too well. “I wanted to get to you,” she said simply. “After Andrew told me you were alive, and what Dana had done to you…” Buffy grabbed his left hand and placed a kiss on his palm. “If I ever get my hands on her—”

“Wasn’t the chit’s fault,” Spike said quickly. “She was crazy, an’ I rushed in half-cocked.”

“Do you ever go in any other way?” Buffy teased.

He gave her a sour look. “Ha-bloody-ha, Slayer.”

She glanced over at the covered windows. It was obvious that the sun was going down. “I say we take this conversation elsewhere,” Buffy determined. “I’m hungry, and I need to get a few things, and then maybe we could go back to my hotel.”

Her heated look left no question as to what exactly she wanted to do at her hotel. Spike decided that he was amenable. “Whatever you like, pet.”

The phone rang, and Spike reached over to pick it up, just in case it was Wesley calling for some reason. “H’lo?” Buffy watched as he frowned. “Sure, mate. You know what it is yet?”

Buffy sighed, already knowing what was coming. For the first time, Spike was more into the Slaying than she was, but there was no way she was going to let him out of her sight.

Even if they never did make it back to her hotel room.

Spike hung up the phone and gave her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, pet, but—”

“Let’s go,” Buffy said, rising.

Spike raised an eyebrow. “You want to go? You don’t have to. I could meet you back at your hotel once we get this taken care of.”

“What is it?”

“Some sort of demon that’s been eatin’ livers. While the victim’s still alive.”

Buffy wrinkled her nose. “Eww.”

Spike grinned. He loved Buffy’s grossed-out face. “Yeah, well, that’s where I come in.”

“Are you sure you’re up for it?” Buffy asked with concern. “I mean, your hands—”

He wriggled his fingers at her. “Don’t need fine motor control to hold an ax.”

Buffy humphed. “Fine, but I’m not letting you out of my sight. We’re doing this together.”

Spike raised his eyebrows. “Just like old times, huh?”

“Nah,” Buffy replied. “Even better.”

~~~~~

“Are you sure we should have bothered them?” Fred asked. “I mean, Buffy did just get into town. They probably want more alone time.”

Wesley gave her a look. “If you would like to attempt to convince Angel to take care of this little problem, be my guest.”

“Angel’s just getting used to things.” Fred sounded uncertain, however, as though she didn’t quite believe it herself.

Wesley sighed. “Angel has had more than enough time to ‘get used to things,’ as you say. He simply doesn’t seem to care anymore.”

Fred frowned, unable to disagree. “He’s changed, but all of us have, Wesley. I’m sure he’s just missing Cordy.”

“It’s more than that, I think,” Wesley muttered. The muscles in his shoulders tensed as Fred’s hand brushed his back.

Fred let her hand wander a bit more, her fingertips brushing the soft fabric of Wesley’s shirt without much thought. He just felt so solid. Fred didn’t much like to think about the fact that it had been over a year since she’d had the chance to feel a man’s arms around her.

Wesley’s arms were strong; she remembered that much.

“Do you think someone should talk to him?”

“What would you say, Fred?” Wesley asked quietly.

Fred got a stubborn look on her face that Wesley didn’t often see but knew well enough to recognize. “I’d tell him to pull his head out of his ass.”

“Fred!” Wesley appeared torn between delight and shock.

“Well, I would,” she insisted. “He’s being stupid about this whole thing. Remember when Spike was a ghost? Angel didn’t even want me helping him.”

Wesley made a face. “Tell me about it. I was thinking of suggesting that Spike stay at the Hyperion.”

“You didn’t tell Angel, did you?”

“Do I look like I’ve gone round the bend?” A grin broke out over Wesley’s face. “I thought I’d just let Spike camp out there. Perhaps he would put the place to good use.”

Fred gave him an appreciative look. “You’re sneaky.”

Wesley lifted an eyebrow. “Only when I have to be.”

~~~~~

Gunn collapsed into his office chair. Making his upgrades permanent had taken a lot out of him, but they would be expecting him to be at the office. For some reason, he really didn’t want anyone to know that he’d had to go back to that doctor. There was still the question of what he had done by signing that piece of paper.

Charles Gunn didn’t want to look at that too closely.

If the upgrade was permanent, he didn’t have to worry about losing it in the middle of a case again. He could still advise Angel on contracts. He would still have something that no one else had.

Gunn would be special.

There was a small piece of him that knew signing the piece of paper to allow transport of a quarantined object into the country was unethical. More than that, it was probably dangerous.

That was why he wasn’t allowing himself to think about it too much.

Pressing the button to his secretary, he said, “Hold all my calls.”

He just needed a little time to recover.

~~~~~

“Angel?”

His head shot up. “Cordy?”

“What are you doing here?”

Angel stared at her. Cordelia’s eyes were open for the first time in months—and it was really her. After the body-switching of the previous year, Angel knew the real deal from the evil twin, and this was the real deal. “What—I’m here to visit you.”

Cordy frowned as she moved her head to look around the room. “Wait a minute,” she said. “Where am I?”

“In a hospital,” Angel replied, not mentioning that it was the hospital wing of Wolfram and Hart.

Cordy looked at him. “What am I doing in the hospital?”

“You—there was an accident,” Angel replied. He had no idea what Cordelia remembered, or if the memory alterations had worked on her.

She pushed herself up slowly, obviously weakened by her months of inactivity, but not as much as she might have been had it been a natural coma. “An accident?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Angel asked.

Cordelia shook her head, trying to clear it. “I was going to meet you—”

“That’s right.” Angel breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently she didn’t remember anything in between then and now. Maybe that meant she wouldn’t remember Connor. “You never made it.”

“No, because Skip showed up and totally tricked me!” Cordelia said with righteous indignation. “He hijacked my body!”

Angel blinked. “Uh…”

“And you!” Cordelia glared at him. “You couldn’t tell the difference between me and my evil twin!”

“Cordy, really, it was—”

Her eyes narrowed. “And where is Connor?”


	5. Don't Go Anywhere

**“I cry just a little bit/just a little bit/every day./Get by just a little bit/just a little bit/that way./I know, I know/I should have known./Bluer/than the blue devils/bluer than this pale blue angel./Bluer than all of my troubles/Love is never far from danger.”~Over the Rhine, “Bluer”**

Angel chuckled nervously. “You know, that’s a funny question.”

“Watch me not laughing,” she said in all earnestness. Suddenly, all the fire went out of her. “I’m so sorry, Angel.”

He stared at her. “For what?”

She rolled her eyes. “What do you mean, ‘for what’? You were there, weren’t you. That—bitch hijacked my body and used it—” Cordy’s eyes narrowed to little slits. “When I get my hands on her…”

“You can’t,” Angel said. “She’s gone, Cordy. Really gone.”

Cordelia sighed. “Too bad. I would have thought up something really painful. So where am I again?”

“In the hospital,” Angel said firmly. “We didn’t know if you were going to—wake up.” His voice cracked just a little on the last word, and Cordy put her hand over his.

She smiled at him. “Well, I’m awake now and definitely ready to get out of here.” Her nose wrinkled. “I don’t suppose my apartment is still mine.”

“We had to move your things back to the hotel,” Angel confessed. “After I saw you—”

She shot him a glare. “Do you know how bored I was?” Cordelia demanded. “I thought you were going to get me out.”

Angel looked affronted. “You were happy!”

“I was bored!” Cordelia shot back, and then she sighed. “Never mind, Angel. It’s done. Can I go back to the hotel now?”

Angel winced. “Well, you see, there might be a problem with that.”

~~~~~

She wouldn’t stop touching him. Right now, she was holding his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, and Spike didn’t know what to make of it. It was nice—the fact that the feeling had definitely come back into his fingers was nicer still—but Buffy had never done anything like this before.

The Slayer had never been so public with him before.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

He glanced over at her sharply. “What? No, nothing’s wrong, pet.”

“You seem jumpy,” she observed. “If you don’t think you can handle this, that’s fine, Spike. Maybe you should allow yourself to heal up a little more.”

Spike shook his head. “Don’t need fine motor control to handle an ax, now do I?”

Buffy’s mind wandered to what Spike might do with his “fine motor control.” She forced the idea to one side and focused on his face. He still looked uncomfortable. “Out with it.”

“Buffy—”

“I’m all into talking and you’re not saying anything,” she observed. “So what gives?”

Spike sighed. “You’re holding my hand.”

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, but—you never held my hand before.”

Buffy flushed. It was partly shame—shame that they had done so many other things but hadn’t managed something so simple as holding hands. “Well, get used to it,” she replied. “I plan on doing a lot of things we’ve never done before.”

That sent Spike’s eyebrows right up into his hairline. “Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Buffy replied. They were in the elevator of Wolfram &amp; Hart now, and she grinned. “Like kissing you in an elevator.”

She was as good as her word, and when the doors slid open, they were still lip-locked. “Can’t you two get a room?” Harmony huffed, staring at the couple.

Buffy broke away from Spike slowly. “Why? Jealous, Harm?”

“Oh, please,” Harmony shot back. “I could have had Spikey anytime, but I’ve got my eye on something better. I’m a career woman now,” she finished proudly.

“Sure you are,” Buffy said, condescension dripping from her voice. “Harmony, Spike wouldn’t—”

Spike shut her up with another kiss and quickly ushered her out of the elevator. He and Harmony’s brief tryst was suddenly coming back to haunt him, and if Buffy found out about it she’d never forgive him.

Too late.

“Spike already had me,” Harmony shot back as the elevator doors closed. “I was the one that broke up with him!”

Spike shut his eyes, hoping that Buffy believed the other vampire was referring to something in the distant—rather than the recent—past.

“What was she talking about?” Buffy demanded.

He hesitated. “It wasn’t anything important.”

“You slept with her, didn’t you?” The Slayer’s eyes had narrowed, and Spike knew he was in for it now. Buffy was going to stake him.

“It was a mistake?” he offered hesitantly. “I’d just become solid, and I—”

Her eyebrow arched, Buffy sweetly suggested, “You just wanted to feel?”

“Somethin’ like that,” he admitted. “Buffy, really, it wasn’t anythin’. You know how I feel about you.”

“I’m beginning to have my doubts,” she replied coolly. “You don’t come see me, you don’t even call, and you sleep with Harmony. What am I supposed to think, Spike? I guess you really don’t want anything to do with me.”

She tugged her hand out of his and started back down the hall, away from Wesley’s office. “No, Buffy! That’s not it at all!”

The Slayer stopped. She was hurt, but not nearly as much as she was pretending. Buffy knew exactly why Spike had slept with Harmony immediately after becoming solid again. After months of not being able to touch anything, why wouldn’t he have wanted to connect? And why had Spike been with Harmony in the first place, except for the physical comfort? It wasn’t like he had been with her for the conversation.

She turned to face him, and the guilt hit her when she saw the panic and fear on Spike’s face. “I’m not going anywhere,” Buffy finally assured him. “But from now on, I’m the one you sleep with if you want to feel. Got it?”

“Why would I want anyone else when you’re here?” he asked, genuinely puzzled.

Buffy remembered how sweet Spike could be when he wasn’t putting his foot in his mouth. “Good. Then we can finish this conversation at my hotel, after we kill the demon.”

Something shifted in his eyes. “Your hotel, huh?”

“You got a better suggestion?” she asked.

Spike was ambivalent about starting out their relationship in bed again. “You sure, pet?”

“I told you, I’m not letting you out of my sight,” Buffy replied. “We can decide later exactly what we’re going to do in my hotel room.”

~~~~~

Fred leaned back in her chair wearily. “I didn’t realize you had so much going on, Wes.”

His in-box was still half full, and they had been going through files and reports all day. In some ways, that was the problem with being at Wolfram &amp; Hart. Working with Angel had often been overwhelming, sometimes down-right terrifying, but they rarely knew about so many things going wrong as he did on any given day at the law firm.

In fact, there was so much information, there was little he could effectively do about any of it.

“I’ve been letting it pile up,” Wesley admitted, placing another completed report in the out-box. At least he’d managed to accomplish something, and Spike would be arriving any minute to take care of the liver-eating demon—otherwise known as the Fraickes. Were the truth to be told, that was why Wesley had been giving Spike jobs to do. While he had known the vampire was at loose ends, it was more to salve his conscience, so that he could tell himself that he really was doing something.

“Too overwhelming?” Fred asked sympathetically.

Wesley nodded slowly. “Something like that, yes. Plus, I’ve had to deal with several of Angel’s messes, things he ought to be doing as the head of Wolfram &amp; Hart.”

“Do you ever wonder if we’re in the right place, Wesley?” Fred asked. It was a rare moment of introspection for her. Normally, she was too busy to think about whether or not she was doing the right thing in being there. Sitting with Wesley, however, helping him go through his files—it all reminded her of the days when they’d simply been private investigators.

When he had been “just Wesley,” her friend. There were all kinds of regrets that fluttered through her mind like moths from old clothes.

She had so many regrets when it came to Wesley. After what she’d told him—

Fred stopped. What had she told him? She couldn’t remember the words she’d used now, only that she had hurt him terribly.

“Every day,” he said, a sudden desire for honesty bubbling up. “Do you—would you ever think about leaving here?”

She hesitated. “I don’t know. Do you think we should leave Angel?”

“Perhaps if we left, he would follow,” Wesley suggested, looking around warily. “I don’t know that this is the place to talk about it, though.”

“You’re right,” Fred replied quickly. “Maybe once we let Spike know what’s going on, we could go have a drink somewhere and—talk.”

Wesley’s eyes went wide as he tried to figure out what she meant by that. “I don’t—”

“You got a demon for us to kill, mate?” Spike asked, striding into the office, unaware that he’d just broken the moment. Wesley stifled the irrational urge to snap at the vampire. After all, he was the one who had called Spike in.

Wesley sighed. “That’s right. It’s called a Fraickes demon, and it eats—”

“Livers, yeah,” Spike finished. “I’ve seen ‘em before. Nasty buggers.”

“Yes, well, I was hoping you might be able to stop it before it kills any other people. I didn’t want to bother Angel with it.”

Spike snorted. “The Great Poof is getting above this sort of thing, yeah?” He hesitated and then asked, “Can I talk to you for a minute, mate?”

The vampire pulled Wesley off to one corner of the office, leaving Buffy and Fred to stare at one another. “I’m Buffy Summers,” the Slayer said, introducing herself.

“Oh, I’m Fred,” the other woman said. “Well, Winifred Burkle, actually, but everyone just calls me Fred.” She stopped, knowing that she was beginning to babble. “So you’re Buffy, huh? Spike’s talked a lot about you.”

Buffy made a face. “I hope he said something good about me.”

“He really likes you,” Fred confided. “I can tell.”

Buffy sensed the opportunity to get some dirt. “So what has he been doing around here?”

In the corner, Spike was holding a whispered conversation with Wesley. “I s’pose I’m goin’ to be stayin’ with Buffy until I get somethin’ more permanent. You still thinkin’ the hotel?”

“You’re not going back to Rome?” Wesley asked, real surprise in his voice. He had expected Spike to be on the next plane out of L.A. once he knew Buffy’s purposes. The ex-Watcher had to admit to feeling a sense of relief. He hated to think he’d be losing another friend, although it would be to distance this time.

Spike shook his head. “They don’t need me in Rome,” he said. “Until we get this thing with Wolfram and Hart settled, and I know what they wanted with me, ‘m not leavin’.” He glanced over at Fred and Buffy, who were giggling. “You ought to ask her out, Wes.”

“What?” Wesley said. “I don’t think so.”

Spike cocked one eyebrow. “Why not? ‘s obvious she fancies you.”

“We’re just friends,” Wesley replied repressively. “Fred doesn’t view me in that way.”

Spike just smirked. “Whatever. All I’m sayin’ is don’t miss your chance.”

“I think we may be going out for a drink after you leave,” Wesley admitted. Then, lowering his voice further, he whispered, “I think Fred might be contemplating getting out of this place.”

The vampire nodded in a satisfied manner. “Good. Be better for both of you.” He glanced back over at the women who appeared to be getting along just fine. “Maybe tomorrow you could show me this hotel of yours. Meet you back here in the afternoon sometime?”

“That would be fine,” Wesley acknowledged. “Be careful tonight, Spike.”

Spike smiled. “With the Slayer watchin’ my back, I’ll be right as rain.”

Meanwhile, Fred and Buffy were making plans for the next day. “Are you sure you don’t mind?” Buffy asked.

“No, I think it’ll be fun,” Fred insisted. “I haven’t had a chance to have any girl-time since—well, since Cordelia left. I like the guys, but it’s nice to get away.”

Buffy nodded. “I could see that. Although, with all the Slayers around, I could usually use some time away from all those girls. Teenage girls at that.”

They both winced, thinking about it. “I’d like to do some shopping,” Fred said.

“Good,” Buffy said. “That’s settled. It’s probably a good thing that Spike isn’t going with me. I wanted to pick up a few things for him, and I think it’ll go more smoothly if he isn’t around to object to anything.”

Fred giggled. “Good luck. Does he ever wear anything else?”

“Sometimes,” Buffy said with a sigh of longing. She remembered Spike wearing color, and she wanted to see him wearing it again. “So we’ll meet here tomorrow, and take off.”

“Sounds good,” Fred agreed. “You can tell me all about Wesley before he came to L.A.”

Buffy laughed. “Sure, and you can tell me everything that Spike’s been doing for the last few months.”

“Ready to go, pet?” Spike asked.

Buffy shrugged. “Sure. I’m always ready to kill a bad guy.”

“Right.” Spike grinned. “We’ll take the company car.”

“You have a company car?”

“No, but Angel has a whole garage full.”

Wesley and Fred watched them leave, bantering back and forth, and Wesley looked back at his in-box. He was still woefully behind, and he probably should be thinking about pulling an all-nighter, just to try and get through the worst of it.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Fred asked. “I’m kind of hungry.”

“Again?” Wesley asked, thinking about the mountain of tacos she’d consumed earlier.

Fred shrugged. “Lunch was a long time ago.”

Wesley considered it for a minute, looking at the stack of correspondence, and then longingly at the door. “Let’s go then,” he replied, grabbing his jacket. “I could use a drink.”

Fred impulsively grabbed his arm—just what she’d do with any guy friend, she told herself. “Me too. And maybe more than one.”


	6. Take Two

**“You were the hand I tried to take/You’re the decision I could not make/You’re the religion I should forsake/You were the story I tried to tell/You’re the savior that tripped and fell/Beautiful dancing infidel/Who will guard the door/When I am sleeping…I’m not sleeping/You were the season that would not change/I often was the same…” ~Over the Rhine, “Who Will Guard the Door”**

This was what had been missing, Buffy realized, right about the time that they found the Fraickes. Wesley’s information had been right on the money, and the demon loomed before them with a wily grin. It was more intelligent than many of the other demons she’d seen, and it was scary-big.

“Did Wesley say anything about it being that size?” Buffy asked. Eight feet of demon was a little much, even for her.

Spike shook his head jerkily. “Might have been a good idea to have backup on this one.”

“We can take it,” Buffy said confidently. “No problem.” His lifted eyebrow was a pointed question. “We’ve handled stuff this big before.”

Now the second eyebrow joined the first. “When?”

Put that way, Buffy couldn’t think of a time when they’d faced down something this big together. There had been Glory, but that was a case of size not mattering. The Turok-Han and the ‘Bringers were all about numbers. “Do you have a better idea?” she challenged.

“No, your idea is fine,” Spike replied. “Just thinkin’ it might not be so easy after all.”

Buffy sighed. The beast was moving towards them now at a pace that should have been impossible for something that size. “Low and high?”

“Only if you’re goin’ low.” Spike was off in a flash, jumping to the top of a pile of boxes so he could launch himself at the demon from some height.

This really was what had been missing. They were in some nearly deserted part of L.A., where the garbage and detritus usually ended up—including people. The last victim had been a homeless person, but there had been some concern that the Fraickes would start hunting in a more populated area. Spike had told her on the way over that Fraickes couldn’t procreate without a certain number of livers eaten. More of the creatures was the last thing they needed.

It wasn’t the scenery that Buffy had missed. Rome had its fair share of back alleys and dangerous parts of town, although they tended to look less modern. It was the fact that she was here with Spike.

She had missed him like a person misses a limb—you could go on without it, but life was never the same.

She darted forward once she saw Spike engage the demon, getting a good blow to the head in with his ax. Buffy decided that the monster would be easier to work with if it was more on their level, and so she used the sword she carried to cut along the backs of its legs, hoping that hamstringing it would actually do some good.

The Fraickes bellowed and toppled over, almost catching Spike unawares. The vampire didn’t stay surprised for long, however. In the next moment, Spike had cut its head off with one sharp blow, sending it rolling off into the shadows, and covering him with its blood when it exploded.

Spike grimaced, wiping at his face with a coatsleeve that did nothing more than spread the goop around. “Forgot about that.”

Buffy was just glad she had managed to be out of the line of fire. “You can get cleaned up back at the hotel,” she said. “Do you need to stop somewhere and get some clean clothes?”

“Don’t have anything else,” Spike replied, pouting.

Buffy shrugged. “I think the hotel has a washing machine and dryer we can use. If we get your stuff in there tonight, you should have something to wear by tomorrow.”

Spike sighed. “The coat took the worst of it. That’s never going to be the same again.”

At the last second, Buffy decided to keep her mouth shut, even though she wanted to tell him he could lose the coat. She seemed to remember that it was her fault he was wearing it again. “Maybe you could take it to the cleaners.”

“Maybe,” Spike said mournfully, stripping out of his duster. Sure enough, the coat had taken most of it, leaving his jeans and t-shirt spotted with the blue gunk, rather than soaked in it.

Buffy grabbed his free hand. “Come on, Spike. I think it’s time to get out of here. We still need to talk.”

Spike wasn’t sure how he felt about this promised talk, not when he kept expecting Buffy to disappear.

~~~~~

Cordelia wasn’t going to be stopped. “I’m not staying here one more second, Angel.”

Angel watched helplessly as she looked around for her clothes. “Cordy—”

“I understand why you did it, but it was stupid,” she said, still looking for something to wear. “This is Wolfram and Hart, Angel! They wouldn’t have offered you this deal unless there was something in it for them.”

Angel glowered. “I didn’t have a choice. Connor—”

“Connor was crazy and now he’s not. You told me.” She turned to face him, hands on hips. “Seriously, Angel, what were you thinking? Wiping everyone’s memories, sending Connor away—what is he going to think when he finds out he’s stronger than your average kid? He’s going to freak out, that’s what, and there won’t be anyone there to help him out.” She huffed. “I can’t believe you.”

“Then tell me what else I could have done,” Angel demanded. “You weren’t there to help me out, and it was my job to save him. How else was that going to happen?”

Cordelia sighed, a sound that Angel remembered very well. “I don’t know, Angel, but the last thing you should have done was to join Wolfram and Hart. They’re evil, remember?”

“I’m in charge, and I’m not evil,” Angel said stubbornly.

Cordy wasn’t so sure about that. Angelus was a sneaky bastard, and it would be just like the law firm to try a slow sort of corruption. “Well, I’m not staying here another night.”

Angel felt a moment of panic. If Cordelia wasn’t going to stay, what the hell was he supposed to do with her? “Cordy—”

“I don’t mind staying at the Hyperion,” she continued relentlessly. “Or with Wesley or Fred. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind putting me up.” Cordelia frowned. “In fact, I really need to talk to Wesley.”

Angel sighed, knowing when he was fighting a losing battle. When Cordelia was in this sort of mood, there was no dissuading her. She would do exactly what she wanted to do, and run right over him in the process. “I’ll see if Wesley’s available.”

Cordelia watched him leave the room and then hugged herself. Her body gets hijacked and she slips into a mystical coma for a few months, and look what happens. Everything goes to hell in a hand basket.

She did understand why Angel had made the choice that he did, she just didn’t think it was a good one. There was a good possibility that this whole “Angel as CEO” thing was just another scheme to drag out Angelus. No thank you. Cordy may have promised to stick with him till the end, but she sensed a need to obtain minimum safe distance.

If she could get Wesley and the others out of there, so much the better.

~~~~~

Wesley nearly didn’t bother answering his phone when it rang. He knew that Spike would be too busy to call, and Gunn never phoned, which meant it could only be Angel. Wesley was having too good a time to want to speak to his boss.

The evening out with Fred had begun rather awkwardly. Neither one of them seemed to know how to talk with each other anymore. Wesley could barely recall a time when the words had been easy between them. Perhaps before the incident with Billy—certainly before she and Gunn had begun dating.

It had been a long time, though, and there had been little practice since then. There had, in fact, been a long period of estrangement when—

The thought slipped away from him yet again. There was something that was eating at him, some link between then and now that continued to evade him. Wesley could only remember that there had been a time when they hadn’t spoken, when he had been alone. The emotional memory was there, even if the facts were elusive.

Still, once they had both had a drink and a little time—and Fred had managed to pack away a huge dinner—the words began to come. They talked about Spike and about what might have made him solid again. They spoke of Wolfram and Hart and their continual sense of being overwhelmed.

They talked about leaving, and what might come next.

Wesley found out, much to his relief, that Fred had not been asked to sign a contract either. When he had asked, she had laughed a little. “I wouldn’t have signed anything that they gave me. It would have been too much like Faust, you know?”

Wesley had nodded and laughed, comparing the Senior Partners with Mephistopheles. “It was something of a bargain, though,” he pointed out. “I’m still not certain why Angel took the position.”

Fred shook her head. “I don’t know, Wes. Everything the rest of us got out of the deal is pretty obvious, but I have no idea what Angel received.” She hesitated. “You don’t think it has something to do with his soul, do you?”

Wesley shook his head. “No, I don’t. I almost would have said it had more to do with Cordelia, but that seems unlikely since she is still in her coma.”

Their conversation might have continued but for the phone ringing. And, while Wesley was hesitant to answer, the thought of a real emergency where Angel needed him activated his sense of duty.

Angel’s voice was terse, almost angry. He wasn’t asking, he was ordering. Wesley needed to return to Wolfram and Hart at once. Cordelia was awake and asking to see him.

The vampire had hung up the phone before Wesley even had a chance to reply, and he found himself staring at his cell for a moment before putting it away. “What’s wrong?” Fred asked, sounding concerned.

“Cordy’s awake,” Wesley replied, a grin starting to break out over his features. In spite of Angel’s rather abrupt way of informing him, this was good news indeed. “Angel said she was asking for me.”

Fred’s face lit up in turn. “She’s awake?” Something hit her. “Wasn’t Angel happy?”

“I don’t know,” Wesley admitted. “His manner was rather abrupt. I’m not certain what was going through his mind.”

“Maybe he was just excited,” Fred suggested, although she wasn’t sure she bought that explanation for a second. Angel had changed since taking charge of the law firm. He was harder to work for these days, less approachable. Fred couldn’t help but remember his sweetness after he had rescued her from Pylea. The way he had tried to draw her out and make her a part of things.

She missed that these days.

“Perhaps,” Wesley said, but her doubt was echoed in his voice. “Would you like to go with me?”

“Of course,” Fred quickly agreed. “You couldn’t stop me if you tried.”

Wesley wouldn’t have tried.

~~~~~

“Why don’t you take a shower?” Buffy suggested as they entered her hotel room. “I’ll throw your stuff in the washing machine.”

“You don’t have to do that, pet,” Spike protested, although he had no idea how else he was going to get his clothing clean.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Come on, Spike. How else is it going to get clean?”

He sighed. “I’ll pass it through the door.”

Buffy was about to argue but changed her mind at the last second. “That’s fine.” She grabbed his stuff and hers once he dropped his jeans and t-shirt outside the door. Buffy had changed into her pajamas, deciding that she wanted to get comfortable for this talk they needed to have. The Slayer had a feeling that Spike was uncomfortable about something, although she had no idea what.

Honestly, Buffy wasn’t sure what she had expected upon seeing Spike again. Well, she knew what she’d wanted, which definitely included getting horizontal—or possibly vertical. It didn’t really matter to her. Point was, she wanted him.

Spike had seemed amenable to being wanted, but there was still a distance between the two of them. Buffy thought it might have everything to do with why he’d been back for months without letting her know. She just wasn’t sure if it was something she could fix, or if she should wait for him to come around on his own.

It was hard to tell with Spike.

She was watching some ‘80’s flick on one of the movie channels when he emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. For the first time, Buffy realized that the soul had made him body-shy. The vampire had certainly not been modest before the soul, and there hadn’t been an opportunity to see each other sans clothing after the fact.

“That’s a good look for you,” she teased. “You should wash your clothes more often.”

He scowled at her. “They goin’ to take much longer?”

“At least an hour,” Buffy replied easily. “You know how this works, Spike. I know you’ve done laundry in the past.”

Spike shifted, obviously uncomfortable. “Look, Buffy, I don’t—”

“Why don’t you get under the covers, if that’ll make you feel better.” Buffy shifted off the bed, giving him the opportunity to slip under the sheets. “Then we can talk.”

There was only one bed in the room, a fact that didn’t make Spike feel much better. He just wasn’t sure he was ready for this. He and Buffy had never talked out what had happened between them, or why he had gotten the soul. The few times he had brought it up, she had hurried to dismiss it. They had danced around the issue, but the words had never been spoken.

After what he’d just gone through with Dana, Spike wasn’t too sure what Buffy might be thinking of him, what she might see in him.

Even if she had flown halfway around the world just to be with him.

“What did you want to talk about?” he finally asked, looking anywhere but at her.

Buffy shrugged. “I don’t know, but you seem kind of jumpy. I thought you might have something to say.”

He shook his head. “No, ‘m fine.”

“That’s good to hear.” Buffy waited for him to respond, and when she was met with yet more silence, she reached out to grasp his wrist. “How are your hands?”

“They’re fine.” Spike had no idea of what to say, for possibly the first time in his life—or unlife.

Buffy looked him straight in the eye. “Do you have a problem sharing a bed with me?”

When the bloody hell had the Slayer gotten this direct, Spike wondered. “No.” Her blunt question startled the truth out of him.

“Okay, then why are you so uncomfortable?”

“I don’t know what this is,” he confessed quietly. “’s happened so bloody fast, I don’t know what to think, luv. We—you an’ I—at the end, we were good, yeah?”

“Yeah, we were good, Spike,” Buffy replied.

His blue eyes were open and vulnerable. Buffy could see his soul as clearly as she had in the cavern under the Hellmouth. “We never did talk about what happened—between us.”

Buffy swallowed hard. “No, I guess we didn’t. There never seemed to be any time, and what time we did have—I didn’t want to go there.”

“You have to know how sorry I am ‘bout that. It still—I just—” Spike couldn’t find the words. How did you explain emotions that had propelled you around the globe to find the one thing you shouldn’t want? How did you tell the woman you loved that you were afraid to touch her, because you were certain that all she would see was the face of her attacker? Her enemy?

“I never did say the words, did I?” Buffy asked softly. “I forgave you for that a long time ago, Spike.” She took a deep breath. “Was that why you didn’t let me know you were back?”

He looked away. “I didn’t know where we would go, Buffy. Didn’t even know that you wanted me like that. I knew you cared, but I wanted to be the long-haul guy, an’ I didn’t think that’s how you thought about me.”

“You want to know what I think about you, William?” The name was laden with emotion. Buffy rarely used his given name, and when she did, it was usually something he didn’t want to hear. “You’re a Champion. A hero. The guy who doesn’t give up, even when it would be the smart thing to do. The one who rushes in to save the day, even when he probably ought to be running the other direction. Even if I had never seen you again, you would have always been right here.” Buffy put her hand over her heart. “I don’t see a monster, I see a man.”

Spike stared at her, his mouth hanging open slightly. No one had ever given him that kind of speech before. He was usually the one to deal in words. “You—” He started over. “You don’t mind stayin’ with me? At least until I figure out what it is I got brought back for?”

Buffy shook her head. “I don’t mind a bit. Rome was getting old anyway, and Andrew won’t mind staying with Dawn for a while. She’ll probably come visit over her next break.”

He swallowed. “Then you want—” She was offering him everything he had ever wanted on a platter. Spike couldn’t believe it.

“You.” Buffy grinned at him. “Actually, I really want you. Can we talk less and do more now?”

Spike had no problem obliging her. Several times, in fact.


	7. Hunger

**“…You’re the hunger/on my bones/all the nights/I sleep alone/Sweet intoxication/when your words/wash over me./Whether or not/your lips move/you speak to me./Like an ocean/ without waves/you’re the movement/that I crave./And in that motion/I long to drown/and be lost not to be found./You’re my water/you’re my wine/you’re my whiskey/from time to time.” ~Over the Rhine, “Drunkard’s Prayer”**

Wesley couldn’t contain his delight when he saw Cordelia standing by the window of her hospital room. The bed that had held her for so many months was empty, and she was fully clothed.

Angel had met Wesley outside the room, informing him that Cordelia didn’t want to stay inside Wolfram and Hart for one more moment, and that she had asked for him. Then, with a disgruntled look Wesley didn’t quite understand, given that one of his best friends had miraculously recovered from a mystical coma, the vampire swept off down the hall.

Well, Wesley was beginning to see where Spike got his drama-prince tendencies. It seemed as though it ran in the family.

Fred had retreated diplomatically, claiming that she needed some files from the lab, leaving Wesley to meet Cordelia on his own. Fred remembered how close Wesley and Cordelia had been, and she sensed that the shortness of Angel’s phone call did not bode well.

“Cordelia?”

She turned, and her face lit up. “Wes!”

Wesley was a little surprised when she flung her arms around him, but he didn’t mind all that much. They had been close before—

The memory once again slipped away, but the ex-Watcher was too caught up in the moment to notice. “You’re looking wonderful,” he commented.

“So are you,” she replied, stepping back to admire him. Wesley looked better than he had in months, she thought. With all memories of his betrayal wiped from his mind, the shadow in his eyes wasn’t quite so deep.

It was, however, still there, which told Cordelia that it wasn’t just the debacle with Connor and Holtz that had marked him. She wondered what had happened while she’d been gone to make him both more and less like the Wesley she’d known.

Wesley, for his part, searched her face, looking for the girl he’d once fancied and for the woman whom he’d loved. He smiled as he realized that this was the real Cordy. “Angel said you wanted to get out of here.”

“I really do,” Cordelia replied. She hesitated, knowing that Angel would be furious at what she was about to do, but it was necessary. Out of everyone, Cordy believed that Wesley would understand. “Can we talk?”

Wesley hesitated. He didn’t want to shut her down, but he and Fred had been having a wonderful evening. He didn’t much want that to end either. “Would you mind if Fred came along? She was with me when Angel called.”

Cordelia caught the change in tone that told her everything she needed to know about the current state of Wes and Fred’s relationship. “It’s about darn time,” she said, teasingly.

“I suppose it is,” Wesley replied. “Would you prefer staying with me or Fred? I’m afraid neither of us has much space.”

She hesitated, unsure which option would be the best. “Would you mind if I stayed with you?”

Wesley looked surprised, and then gratified. “No, of course not. Thankfully, it seems that Spike has vacated my couch.”

Cordy’s eyebrows went up. “Spike?”

“Yes, he’s staying with Buffy,” Wesley replied, belatedly realizing that Cordelia had no idea why Spike would be there. “It’s a long story.”

“I can imagine,” Cordelia muttered. “There’s a lot of that going around.”

Wesley put a solicitous hand under her elbow. “Are you alright?”

“Just tired,” she replied quietly. “And I really, really want to get out of here. This place is giving me bad vibes.”

“Let’s get you out of here, then,” Wesley said. “We can talk at my apartment.”

~~~~~

When Spike woke, it was to the sound of running water. He sat up slowly, rubbing his hands over his face and looking around. His jeans and t-shirt were laying over a chair, clean and dry. Buffy must have left to retrieve their clothing before she got into the shower.

He couldn’t help the slight feeling of apprehension at waking up only to find her gone. Not that Spike thought she was going to change her mind, but it felt all too reminiscent of a hundred other times when she’d done the same thing.

Buffy came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah, just,” Spike agreed, climbing out of bed to pull on his clothing.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said, beginning to comb out her hair. “I woke up hungry and thought I’d get our clothes while I was out.”

Spike watched her as he pulled on his boots. This was new. There was a completely different vibe here, and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. “No, ‘s fine. Thanks for washin’ my stuff.”

“Well, I don’t mind if you’re not wearing anything, but we’ve got stuff to do today.” Buffy turned to give him a quick grin. “I’m going shopping.”

Spike eyed her suspiciously. He didn’t trust that gleam in her eyes. “Not with me, you’re not.”

“No, Fred and I are going together,” Buffy replied. “I can pick up a few things for you while I’m at it.”

Spike felt a trickle of fear. “I can get my own things,” he protested.

She scoffed. “How long have you been back?” she asked. “You still haven’t gotten anything else, and you can’t keep wearing the same clothes all the time.”

“Yeah, but—” Spike sighed, recognizing a losing battle when faced with one. “I don’t s’pose it would do any good to tell you to stick to black, would it?”

Buffy smiled at him sweetly. “Nope. Not one bit of good.”

“Fine,” Spike said wearily. “But solids only, luv. I mean it. Won’t have you treatin’ me like your Ken doll.”

Buffy cupped his chin in her hand. “Sweetie, trust me. You look good in anything—or nothing,” she quickly added with a twinkle in her eye. “But you look much better in color.”

Spike didn’t see any way out, and he didn’t particularly want to go shopping. “I guess I don’t have any choice in the matter.”

“No, you really don’t,” the Slayer responded. Seeing his glum look, she kissed him thoroughly. “I promise not to get anything you would hate.”

He wasn’t sure if he trusted her or not. “Right. I guess I’ll look Wesley up an’ let him know what happened last night.”

“Just the demon part, I hope,” Buffy replied, a trace of acid in her tone.

Spike smirked. “Just the demon part,” he assured her. “Never was one to kiss and tell, Buffy.”

“No, you really weren’t.” Her eyes were soft. She touched his cheek once more in a tender gesure, then went back to getting ready, oblivious to Spike’s hungry gaze.

His tone wheedling, Spike said, “We wouldn’t have to leave just yet, pet.”

“If I get back in that bed, we won’t get out of it today.”

“Is that so bad?”

“Only when you consider that we’ve got about a hundred things to do,” Buffy said. “There’s shopping to do, and figuring out where we’re going to be staying, and possibly more demon fighting. Knowing Wesley, I’m sure he’ll come up with something for us.”

She glanced back over her shoulder, and noticing his disgruntled expression, smiled. “Of course, I plan on taking complete advantage of you tonight.”

A slow grin broke out over Spike’s features. He liked the sound of that.

~~~~~

Very little had actually been said. Both Wesley and Fred had been exhausted, and Cordelia had suggested that what she had to say could wait for a day or two.

Wesley had ended up dropping Fred off at her apartment. “Are you going in tomorrow?”

Fred nodded. “I’m supposed to meet Buffy there and give her the tour. What about you?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied. “I suppose that will depend on what Cordelia wants to do, and what she has to say to me. If I’m not there by the time Spike arrives, will you send him to my place?”

“Sure.” If Fred hadn’t been in the back seat of the car, she would have risked kissing him. Instead, she merely smiled and darted out.

The ride to his place was silent; neither of them spoke until Wesley ushered Cordelia inside. “I’m afraid I haven’t had much time to clean recently.”

“It looks fine, Wes,” she assured him.

He smiled self-consciously. “Well, I’ll let you have the bed, and I can take the couch.”

“I’m not that tired,” she replied. “I’ll just watch TV or something.”

Wesley peered at her in concern. “Cordelia, are you certain you’re quite alright?”

To his surprise, she hugged him again. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for?” Wesley asked, puzzled.

Cordy shook her head. “I’ll explain tomorrow,” she promised.

“If you’re sure.” Wesley hesitated. As exhausted as he was, he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to allow Cordelia out of his sight. It seemed to good to be true having her back, whole and safe. Still, he wasn’t sure he could keep his eyes open for much longer. “Good night then.”

“Night, Wes.”

Cordelia watched him go, thinking that it was only fair to let him have one more night free of the nightmares her story was sure to bring.

It was partially due to Cordelia’s guilty conscience that Wesley awoke to find that she had already gone out to get coffee and donuts. “I got jellies.”

Wesley smiled. “Thank you, but it was hardly necessary.”

“I thought it might be.” She watched as he took the cup of coffee she held out to him. “You’re probably going to need some sustenance for what I’ve got to tell you.”

The ex-Watcher felt the first stirrings of fear. “What are you talking about?”

“I know why Angel agreed to take over Wolfram and Hart.”

That was enough to get his attention. “Fred and I had wondered.”

“Did you sign a contract?” Cordy asked quickly. She wanted to know just how deeply committed they were.

Wesley shook his head. “No, actually, neither Fred nor I signed anything. I’m not certain about Angel or Gunn.”

“Angel signed a contract, but I don’t know about Gunn,” Cordelia replied.

With a sinking feeling, Wesley took a seat on the couch. “How bad is it, Cordelia?”

She tried for a smile, and couldn’t quite make it. “You’re really not going to like it.”

Wesley set his coffee down and reached for her hands. Cordelia was reminded of why she and Gunn had chosen him to be their leader in the first place. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out, Cordy. I’m just glad to have you back.”

Cordelia just hoped he felt that way after he heard what she had to tell him.

~~~~~

Fred smiled brightly when she saw Spike and Buffy wandering into the lab. “Hey, guys! I’m glad you could make it.”

“Just makin’ sure the Slayer found you alright, ducks,” Spike said easily. “You seen Wesley today?”

She shook her head. “He said to tell you if he wasn’t here when you arrived to meet him at his apartment.” Realizing that neither knew about Cordelia coming out of her coma, she said, “Cordy woke up last night. They were going to talk this morning.”

“Cheerleader woke up?” Spike asked, looking at her sharply. “You said that wasn’t likely.”

Fred shrugged. “It wasn’t, but then again, I would have said it was pretty unlikely that you’d come back from the dead.”

Spike raised his eyebrows and then shrugged, acknowledging her point. “Guess I’ll go find the Watcher then. You ladies have a nice time today.” He was about to leave, but Buffy grabbed him, wanting her goodbye kiss. Spike was still unused to the public displays of affection, but he didn’t mind a bit.

“Love you,” Buffy murmured against his lips.

Spike couldn’t help the rather silly grin that formed on his face. “Same goes, luv.”

He walked out, the swagger in his steps obvious. Buffy couldn’t help but watch him as he left, thanking her lucky stars that his coat was still too badly damaged to wear. There were lots more visuals for her to see when he didn’t have that duster on.

“What happened to his coat?” Fred asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him without it.”

Buffy smiled smugly. “Demon goo.”

Fred nodded wisely. “So, do you want the tour first, or do you want to go shopping?”

Buffy looked around, unable to disguise her unease. “Actually, do you mind if we get out of here? This place gives me the wiggins.”

Fred shrugged. “Sure. I’m hungry anyway.”

“Lunch first, and then shopping,” Buffy decided. She hesitated. “Cordelia waking up—that’s a good thing, right?”

Fred looked uncertain. “I don’t know, Buffy. I hope so. I really hope so.”


	8. Revelations

**“…Listening/you’re always listening/I don’t know what to say/Why don’t you turn and run at break-neck speed/just to get away./And when you catch your breath/pray I said every word I meant…Broken down/we’re all so broken down/bandages on our wings/I know I don’t have to tell you/only broken hearts can sing./I’m hoping for a sign./Pray that I’m anything but fine.” ~Over the Rhine, “Professional Daydreamer”**

Gunn strode into Angel’s office, looking confused when he found no one there except for the vampire. “Where’s everybody else?”

“Fred’s out with Buffy,” Angel replied, hesitating before he added, “and Wesley is with Cordelia.”

Gunn frowned. “Did something change with Cordy?”

“You could say that,” Angel murmured. He turned to face his friend. “Cordelia woke up yesterday.”

Eyes growing wide, he demanded, “Why didn’t somebody call me?”

“Cordy wanted to talk to Wes,” Angel said. “And she didn’t want to stay here any longer.”

Gunn smelled trouble. “You explained to her that we aren’t evil, right?”

“I explained,” Angel said wryly. “I just don’t think Cordelia was buying it. If you want to go see her, she’s at Wes’ place today.”

He wanted to see her, but there were files and contracts piled high on his desk. “I’ll have to give Wes a call later,” Gunn said. “What about you?”

Angel shook his head, not wanting to explain that seeing Cordelia was too painful at the moment. She never had pulled her punches, and the vampire wasn’t sure he could handle her brand of honesty at the moment. Angel was still hanging onto the idea that he had done the right thing with everything in him. The thought that Cordy might be right, that he might have made a mistake, turned his stomach.

“What have you got for me?” Angel asked, neatly changing the subject.

Gunn stared at him, realizing with sudden clarity how much things had changed. When had they become so scattered, so caught up in inconsequentials? A year ago, Angel would have been at Cordelia’s side, refusing to leave. Wolfram &amp; Hart was changing them, and it might not be for the better.

Of course, if Gunn acknowledged that much, he would also have to concede that he’d somehow sold out. He wasn’t quite ready to go there yet.

“Just a few things,” he replied, squelching the twinge of anxiety. “There are a couple of meetings you probably ought to be aware of, too.”

~~~~~

Wesley ran a hand over his face, rising from the couch. He’d sat quietly through most of Cordelia’s story, but now he was feeling restless. It was unthinkable, and yet it explained so much. Now that he knew someone had altered his memories, he could recognize the holes for what they were.

It also explained certain things that Angel had said, the inexplicable distance between them that had dissipated gradually over the last month or two.

It made all too much sense, even though he wished it didn’t.

“I betrayed him.”

“You were doing what you thought best, Wesley,” Cordelia replied gently. “And I’m not sure you had a choice.”

He turned to look at her. “I don’t understand.”

She winced at his flat tone. “I’m not sure if any of us had a choice in this,” Cordelia replied. “The thing that hijacked my body had been planning on world domination for a really long time.”

Wesley wasn’t buying it. “I don’t think I can dismiss my actions quite so easily. The fact remains that I had a choice, and I decided to kidnap Angel’s son.”

“To save him!” Cordelia’d had plenty of time to think about this. She was certain of Wesley’s motives, and that they had been pure. She was equally certain that she didn’t need him moping about something he didn’t actually remember and couldn’t change. “You didn’t do it out of malice, Wes.”

“Nevertheless, it seems that I have betrayed a friend, and that he has in turn wiped those memories.” He shook his head. “It’s more than a little disconcerting.”

“We have to get him out of there,” Cordelia insisted. “That place isn’t good for any of you.”

“And what about Angel’s son?” Wesley asked. “If Angel has indeed signed a contract, we do not know what breaking it would do to him.”

Cordelia sighed. “I don’t know, Wes. I just know that I get very bad vibes from that place. There isn’t anything good there.”

“I agree.” Wesley might have gone on, but there was a perfunctory knock on the door before Spike ambled in.

“Fred said you wanted me to meet you here,” Spike said in greeting. “H’lo, Cordelia.”

“Spike.” She raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

He smirked. “Fighting the good fight. What else?”

“Spike has a soul now, Cordelia,” Wesley explained.

Cordy didn’t look convinced. “Like Angel?”

Spike nearly growled at her. “Bloody well not like Angel,” he shot back. “Do you see me sittin’ in some fancy office with a soddin’ secretary? No, ‘m out riskin’ my neck to—”

Wesley decided it might be prudent to interrupt Spike’s rant. “You did manage to kill the Fraickes, then?”

“Ruined my coat,” Spike said, sprawling down on the couch. He looked like he was about to start pouting.

Wesley had wondered, since he’d never seen the vampire without it. “And Buffy?”

“Out shopping with Fred,” the vampire replied. “Said she’d meet up with us later if you had anything good to kill. Oh, and we’re supposed to see about getting me some place to stay on a more permanent basis.”

Cordelia’s eyebrows went up. She caught the subtext even without Wesley’s explanation. “You and Buffy are a couple now?”

“What of it?” Spike asked defiantly.

Cordy pursed her lips, realizing that they were probably perfect for each other. “Nothing.” She turned to Wesley. “What about the Hyperion?”

“It’s still in Angel’s possession, as far as I know,” the ex-Watcher replied. “In fact, I had suggested that Spike use it as a base of operations.”

“You were thinking about leaving the law firm?” Cordy asked, unable to disguise the relief in her voice. If Wesley was willing to leave, it would be one less person she’d have to convince.

Wesley sighed. “I was, although I hadn’t planned on making any moves in that direction so soon. What you’ve told me changes all of that, however. I don’t like the fact that Angel has altered all our memories without our knowledge or consent. What he did for Connor—that I understand, but he needn’t have…”

When Wesley trailed off, Spike looked between Wesley and Cordelia with some interest. “What’s the Great Poof done now?”

“It’s a long story,” Wesley replied. “One we can explain while we go over to the Hyperion.”

~~~~~

Buffy was discovering that she really enjoyed spending time with Fred. They had giggled their way through lunch, sharing stories about the men in their lives. The Slayer was well aware that Spike probably wouldn’t be too happy at some of the stories she’d shared, nor would Wesley.

But, really, she had to have something to repay Fred for some of the really embarrassing stories about Angel.

After lunch, they had gone shopping, and their conversation had turned serious. “So Spike almost got sucked into hell?” Buffy asked quietly.

“It was close.” Fred’s eyes were distant. “Once Pavayne was taken care of he was safe, but—Spike gave up his chance at being corporeal to save my life.”

“That sounds like Spike,” Buffy said with a shaky smile. “He said you guys still don’t know what happened to turn him solid again.”

Fred shook her head. “It probably has something to do with the law firm. Maybe they decided that they didn’t really want him. After all, they gave the amulet to Angel.”

“Why is Angel at Wolfram and Hart?” Buffy asked. “From what you’ve told me, he wouldn’t have any reason for taking their offer, and he wasn’t going to right up until the last minute.”

Fred shrugged. “That’s what Wesley and I were trying to figure out last night. Their offers to the rest of us were very up front. No one knows what Angel wanted.”

Buffy sighed. “Well, I suppose I should do some digging then. Giles was really concerned when he heard that Angel was working for them, or with them, or whatever.”

“Wesley and I are talking about leaving.” The words were quiet, and Buffy almost missed the other woman’s admission. The Slayer had the sense that it took a lot for Fred to even consider leaving Angel’s side. From Fred’s stories, Buffy got some sense of what the vampire had done for her.

Buffy wasn’t quite sure what to say, but she wanted to be supportive. “Maybe it’s for the best,” she encouraged. “If it’s not a good place…”

“I don’t know if it is or not,” she replied, her Texas drawl growing thicker under the weight of her emotions. “We thought we could do some good there.”

“Maybe you did,” Buffy replied. “And maybe now it’s time to leave.” She frowned at the shirt she was holding. “Do you think Spike would wear this?”

Fred cast a critical eye on the navy blue pullover. “Probably,” she finally decided.

“Good.” Buffy smiled. “I figure it’s probably better to introduce color into his wardrobe gradually.”

The other woman nodded. “He does like red.”

Buffy’s eyes brightened. “Red! That’s a good idea.” She glanced over at Fred, putting a sympathetic hand on her arm. “Look, I don’t mean to be nosy or anything, but—if you’re thinking about putting the moves on Wesley, don’t wait. You never know how much time you’re going to have.”

Fred thought that was pretty good advice, especially coming from a woman who had already died twice.

~~~~~

Spike couldn’t say he was surprised that at what Angel had done, but wiping his friends’ memories was a bit low, even for him. “So what are you gonna do about it?” he asked Wesley.

“I don’t know,” the other man confessed. “I could confront him, but what good would that do?”

“Seems to me you need to find out the details of his contract,” Spike suggested. “Might want to talk to Charlie-boy about that.”

Cordelia frowned. It was a good suggestion, and coming from Spike, that surprised her. Wesley had explained about Gunn’s upgrades, so that would make him the logical resource. “Can Gunn be trusted?”

Wesley grimaced at the question. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I would say yes, but he seems to enjoy working for Wolfram and Hart quite a bit.”

“He likes being special,” Spike contradicted him softly. “Workin’ there—he’s got a set of skills you need an’ nobody else has. Offer him the chance to use those in a better way, an’ I think he’ll come around.”

“How do you know all of that?” Cordy demanded, a little disturbed at Spike’s insight.

Spike lifted an eyebrow. “I spent months as a ghost, Cheerleader,” he replied in a hard tone. “Couldn’t do much but watch an’ learn. Learned a lot more than most give me credit for.”

“I’m sure neither of us have any doubt that you’re a quick study, Spike,” Wesley said, quick to play peacemaker. He knew Cordelia was on edge, upset about Angel’s deception, and she had a tendency to be sharp when that happened. Spike had a tendency to bite back.

Wesley bit back a smile. He had a feeling that they would be more than an even match for each other.

Spike let out a low whistle as he followed Wesley and Cordelia inside the hotel. “This isn’t too bad. Bit pompous, but that shouldn’t surprise me with Angel.”

“It was a good place to be,” Cordy said softly, walking over to the front desk and running her hand along the counter. The memories were coming at her fast and furious, and she had to blink back tears. Everything had changed so much and so quickly—it felt wrong.

“Cordelia.” Wesley’s voice was gentle. “We’ll get this sorted.”

She shook her head, unwilling to talk about it. Cordy supposed it was just bad luck on her part. Fall in love with a guy and he either dies or turns evil. Or you get your body hijacked, and you turn evil. She’d never had great luck with men.

“Angel’s a git, pet,” Spike said quietly. “But he’s not a complete idiot. If we can get through to him, figure out a way to fix this thing with his kid, he’ll come around. He’d be a fool not to.”

Spike’s eyes were kind. When had Spike become so nice? Cordelia wondered absently. And Wesley—he was really nice too.

Spike and Wesley caught her as she collapsed. “What just happened?” Spike asked.

“I don’t know,” Wesley replied quickly, striving to keep the panic at bay as he felt for a pulse. Finding it strong and steady under his fingertips, he gave a sigh of relief. “I really don’t know.”

“Better call Fred,” Spike suggested. “She’ll at least know what we’re goin’ to do about this. You think we ought to get her to a hospital?”

Wesley shook his head. “Too many questions. It would be better just to set her up in a room upstairs. You and Buffy might as well move over here, too. If Cordelia’s not well, I’d rather not leave her here alone.”

Spike nodded. “Say the word, mate. You know I’ll help.”

Wesley smiled briefly, watching as the vampire easily caught Cordelia up in his arms. “I know, Spike. Thank you.”

Wesley took a deep breath and then dialed Fred’s number. Things were getting rather complicated.


	9. Shifting Sands

**“…I don’t mean to laugh out loud/I’m trying to come clean/Trying to shed my doubt/ Maybe I should just keep/My big mouth shut./More often than not/When it comes to you/ You want whatever’s not in front of you/Deep down I know this includes me too…Trouble is I’m so exhausted/The plot, you see, I think I’ve lost it/I need the grace to find what can’t be found.” ~Over the Rhine, “Long Lost Brother”**

Buffy followed Fred into the lobby of the Hyperion. She was weighed down with shopping bags, since it seemed that she and Spike would be staying there, rather than at her hotel. The Slayer, almost in spite of herself, was worried for Cordelia. While they hadn’t always gotten along, Buffy had never truly wished her harm.

Okay, that wasn’t completely true. There had been several times in high school where Buffy could have quite happily wished her dead.

Things had changed, however. _They_ had changed. Buffy was ready to do whatever she could to help out.

“How is she?” Fred asked Spike breathlessly. The vampire was lounging on the round chair in the center of the lobby, reading a book he’d found.

“Fine,” he replied. “She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, an’ even then it wasn’t much. Wes thinks she was just a bit lightheaded from all the activity and such.”

Fred breathed out a sigh of relief. “Maybe we should get takeout.”

“Already taken care of,” Spike replied. “The Watcher called for it a little while ago. Should be here any minute now.” He gave the shopping bags a dubious look. “Find anything?”

Buffy smiled at him, the look on her face mischievous. “Just a few things.”

Spike’s look turned sour. “Buffy—”

“I promised I wouldn’t get anything you wouldn’t like,” she reminded him.

Fred nodded, offering her support. “It’s fine, Spike. I think it’ll look good on you.”

He sighed. “Yeah, alright.” Looking over at Fred, he said, “Wesley said to send you upstairs when you arrived. Said you’d know what room he’d put her in.”

She nodded and headed up the stairs, leaving Spike and Buffy alone in the lobby. Buffy didn’t need any encouragement. She was immediately astride his lap, kissing him. Spike’s hands went to her waist, holding her steady as he deepened the kiss.

When Buffy finally broke it off to breathe, she smiled at him. “That was nice.”

“Missed you,” he murmured.

She smiled, putting a hand on his face, noting that he didn’t slick his hair back quite so much. “I missed you too. What did I miss, besides Cordelia fainting?”

Spike frowned slightly. “Sounds a little more serious than we thought, pet. Turns out Angel did a mindwipe on the whole bunch to prevent them from rememberin’ his kid.”

Buffy’s eyebrows went straight up. “Angel has a kid? When did this happen?”

“While back,” Spike replied. “It’s a much longer, much more complicated story than I can tell you, but it’s interesting.”

“Do you think Angel’s gone evil after all?”

Spike shook his head. “Don’t know. Everythin’ he’s done so far can be chalked up to good intentions, which is somethin’ Angelus never had.”

Buffy grimaced. “You know what they say about good intentions.”

“I think that’s what we’re all afraid of.” Spike sighed. “Wes and Fred have to go back over to the office after we eat. You want to stay here with the Cheerleader or should I?”

“I don’t want to go back there,” Buffy replied quickly. “I don’t know what it is, Spike, but that place—”

“’s not a good place,” he agreed. “Right then. I’ll go back an’ see what I can dig up on that end. Who knows? Maybe somebody will listen to me for a change.”

Buffy grinned. “Yeah, when hell freezes over.”

~~~~~

“How are you feeling?” Fred asked solicitously, Wesley hovering in the doorway.

Cordy sighed. “I feel like a complete wuss, passing out like that on you guys.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Wesley said quickly. “We pushed you too hard.”

“No, you didn’t,” Cordelia said. “I pushed myself.”

“Well, we’ll get you something to eat and then you’ll feel better.” Fred gave the other woman a smile and a hug. “It’s really good to have you back.”

Cordelia returned the embrace gratefully. “It’s good to be back.”

“We have to go,” Wesley said apologetically from the doorway. “After we eat, of course, but Fred and I should get back to the office.”

Cordy tried for a smile. “Of course.”

“Someone will stay here, though,” Fred quickly promised. “Spike or Buffy.”

She tried not to wince. There had been a day when she had been the glue that held the group together, and now what was she? Cordelia wondered if she even belonged here anymore, because it sure didn’t feel like it. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “Even if no one can stay.”

“We’re not leaving you by yourself,” Wesley said firmly. “Just in case this is something more serious, we want to be sure you’re alright.”

“Do you want to eat downstairs?” Fred asked. “We could bring something up to you if—”

“No,” Cordelia said, suddenly unable to take another minute in her room. “No, I think I’ll come downstairs.”

~~~~~

Buffy and Cordelia stared at one another, neither speaking. With Spike and Fred present, there had been no want of conversation. The Slayer had been amazed to find that Spike got along quite well with both Wesley and Fred; she was the one who didn’t belong.

Except that Buffy got the feeling that Cordelia didn’t quite fit any more.

“How’s the vision thing?” Buffy finally asked.

Cordelia shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m part demon now.”

“Yeah, I’d heard.”

There was another long pause.

“My body got hijacked last year and I tried to end the world.” With that off her chest, Cordelia felt a little better. She and Buffy had never been friends, but there was a lot of history between the two of them.

Buffy nodded. “That sucks. I was in heaven, until my friends ripped me out, and then last year I had to watch my boyfriend die.”

“Spike?”

“Yeah.”

“When did that happen?”

They were in full girl-talk mode now. It wasn’t something they had previously indulged in, but there wasn’t really anyone else who could understand their lives. “A while ago,” Buffy admitted.

Cordelia’s look turned sly. “How is it?”

Buffy grinned. “It’s amazing! What about you?” At Cordelia’s expression, her eyes widened. “No! Angel?”

Cordelia shook her head. “Not anymore. At least, I don’t know. I mean, before…” She trailed off, unsure of how to explain the changes that a year had wrought. Changes that had seemed to put them on opposite sides of the battle lines.

The Slayer reached out and squeezed Cordelia’s hand. The fact that she had a steady boyfriend, plus being totally over Angel, allowed her to offer what comfort she could.

High school was a very long time ago.

“I get that.”

Cordelia flashed her a grateful smile, then started lookng around the lobby. “We had some really good times here, you know?”

“You still could,” Buffy said. “It might be different, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be good.”

Their eyes met, and a shared look of understanding passed between the two of them. Cordelia smiled. “Do you want a tour of the place? I think I remember where everything is.”

“That would be good,” Buffy replied. “Especially since it sounds like Spike and I are going to be staying here for a while.”

Cordelia’s eyebrows went up. “You seriously aren’t going back to Rome?”

The Slayer shrugged. “I’m not the only Slayer in the world now,” she replied. “I can go wherever I want.”

“That must be really nice,” Cordy said.

“It really, really is,” Buffy replied. “So, the hotel?”

~~~~~

Wesley got grabbed as soon as he walked into the building. Harmony, looking very important, said that Angel wanted to see him as soon as he got in. “I have to go,” Wesley said. “Spike—”

“I’ll meet up with you later,” Spike replied. “’m not sure I want to have another battle to the death with Peaches.”

Wesley frowned. “Why—”

“He’s goin’ to smell Buffy all over me,” Spike said wryly. “An’ then he’s goin’ to want to kill me. I can take him, but I’d rather not. Buffy has plans for later.”

The ex-Watcher shook his head. “Alright, Spike. Will I see you later?”

“Here or at the hotel,” Spike said. He watched, amused, as Fred and Wesley shared a look that managed to be both full of promise and anxiety.

“I’ll see you later, Wes,” Fred said, suddenly shy, as she headed off towards the lab, Spike on her heels. Now that he and Wesley weren’t going to be able to corner Gunn for a while, he really didn’t have much to do. While he probably could have gone back to the hotel—and Buffy—it didn’t make sense to do so yet.

Besides, Spike still couldn’t quite believe this was all real.

“Have you snogged him yet?”

Fred whirled to meet Spike’s mischievous grin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said primly.

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me Percy hadn’t kissed you senseless yet. Do I need to have a talk with him?”

“No!” Fred said, blushing bright red. “It’s none of your business, Spike.”

“’course it’s my business,” he replied, loving to get her wound up. They were both so focused on their current conversation that neither noticed the large sarcophagus sitting in the middle of the lab. Nor did they pay much attention to Knox, who was seemingly busy scribbling notes. “You’re my friend, Wesley’s a friend, you like each other…”

“I don’t _like_ Wesley,” Fred replied, inadvertantly putting the emphasis on “like.”

“You’re in love with him, then.”

“I’m not—” Fred broke off and then glared at him. “How do you do that?”

“Told the Cheerleader,” Spike said easily. “’ve been hauntin’ these halls for months, pet. Not hard to see things that way, especially when no one expects you to think about things.”

Fred smiled at him. “You don’t do anything but think about things, Spike.”

“That’s not precisely true,” Spike corrected her, looking pleased nonetheless. “I’ve gotten into plenty of trouble for not thinkin’.”

She shrugged. “That doesn’t mean you don’t think.” Fred noticed the new arrival for the first time. “When did this come in?” she asked Knox.

The lab tech shrugged. “I’m not sure. It was here when I got here this morning.”

Fred frowned. “Did it come with any kind of paperwork?”

“On the desk over there,” Knox replied casually.

Fred glanced at the paperwork cursorily. “That’s strange,” she murmured, noticing that some of the important documentation was missing. “I’ll have to look at this later,” she said, putting the sheaf of papers back on the desk, glancing back over at the sarcophagus. “I’ll have to do a proper inspection later with full gear.”

Fred spoke the words, and she meant them, but she couldn’t resist moving closer to the large stone coffin. She’d always been the curious sort.

Several things happened at once. Spike, who had been inspecting a piece of equipment he didn’t recognize, heard Knox’s heartbeat jump just as Fred reached out to touch the jewel-like stone embedded in the top of the object. Later, the vampire couldn’t have said why he acted as he did, but he was in between Fred and the sarcophagus in a flash, shielding her body with his own.

There was a sound of rushing air, and Knox’s cry of disappointment. “What have you done?”

Spike kept Fred behind him. “What are you on about?”

“You’ve ruined it,” Knox cried. “It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. This has been planned for millennia, and you ruined it!”

Spike snarled. “I’ve been known to bollocks things up, but if you don’t tell me what’s goin’ on, ‘m goin’ to—”

The expression on Knox’s face was one of anguish. “You ruined it,” he moaned. “Everything was set.”

“Knox, what are you talking about?” Fred asked, coming out from behind Spike.

The young man shook his head. “You were supposed to be the perfect vessel. Everything was aligned, and now—” He dodged as Spike leapt for him.

It was chaos for a moment as Spike grappled with Knox, who pulled a wicked looking knife out of somewhere. The vampire gasped as the knife slipped between his ribs, and then Knox was gone, dashing out of the lab, holding tightly to the blade that was still dripping blood.

Fred was immediately at his side. “Spike?”

“I’ll be fine,” he managed. “Hurts like a bitch, though.”

She watched as the blood seeped from between his fingers, giving him a sympathetic look. “This really hasn’t been your week, has it?”

Spike managed a faint chuckle. “S’pose not.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Fred said. “Then we should probably find Wesley and the others and try to figure out what it was that Knox was planning to do.”

“Whatever it was, wasn’t anythin’ good,” Spike said, watching as Fred eased his t-shirt up, his brow furrowed in concern. “An’ it was meant for you, pet.”

Their eyes met, and then Fred smiled bravely. “We’re always in danger, Spike. Besides, whatever it was, I’m sure we would have beat it.”

Spike wasn’t quite so optimistic. He had a bad feeling about that sarcophagus.


	10. Under the Surface

**“I’m afraid I’ve lost the piece of me/I need the most you see/This puzzle is really all about the need/To be somebody…But you came so close and I assumed/You were looking/For the piece of yourslf that’s lost/It is the hiding place inside everybody/And though we love to numb the pain/We come to learn that it’s in vain/Pain is our mother/She makes us recognize each other…” ~Over the Rhine, “Nobody Number One”**

“Where have you been?” Angel asked irritably.

Wesley simply raised an eyebrow. After hearing what Cordelia had to say, he was feeling much less charitable towards Angel. “I’ve been helping Cordelia settle in at the Hyperion,” he replied evenly.

Angel’s frown deepened. “How is she?”

“Cordelia’s fine,” Wesley replied, making a quick decision not to tell Angel about her collapse earlier. “What did you need, Angel?”

The vampire was slightly taken aback by Wesley’s short response. “You haven’t been here all day, Wes,” Angel replied. “Don’t forget, we have a job to do here.”

“What job?” Wesley asked, allowing his irritation to show. “Reading innumerable reports that I can do nothing about? Or are you talking about overseeing a department that seems to run quite well on its own? Or maybe you’re talking about me doing all the things you’d rather not burden yourself with.”

Angel glowered. “What the hell are you talking about, Wes? Look, you signed on to work here. I didn’t force you into anything.”

“No, you didn’t, but you didn’t tell us the whole truth either,” Wesley hissed in reply, lowering his voice. “You made the decision to work at Wolfram and Hart knowing that we would follow you willingly. You made the decision without ever telling us what you were receiving in return.”

Angel went very still. “She told you.”

“She did. I, for one, was rather surprised.” Wesley’s voice held a bitter note. “You could have told us.”

“That’s not the way it worked out,” Angel spit out. “It was my business, not yours.”

Wesley glared at him. “We’re in this together, Angel.”

“Are we?” Angel asked angrily. “You seem to be about to bail on me, Wes.”

Wesley drew himself up. “I would have stayed with you until the very end,” he shot back. “I would have followed you into hell itself. Actually, it’s possible that I did follow you into hell. You were the one who felt it necessary to alter my memories.”

“Connor—”

“Needed help, yes,” Wesley said impatiently. “Cordelia told me. What I’m not sure you understand is what you’ve done. You are now inextricably linked to Wolfram and Hart, and you may have put your soul in jeopardy. Did you think about that, Angel?”

“It was worth it!” Angel exclaimed. “Connor is my son!”

“Not any longer,” Wesley replied coldly. “Of course, if he discovers that he is nearly invulnerable, you may find him on your doorstep.”

The anger on Angel’s face nearly caused Wesley to back up a step. The ex-Watcher hadn’t been this afraid of the vampire since he’d first started working for Angel Investigations. “Get out.”

“Are you firing me?” Wesley asked.

Angel opened his mouth to answer when Fred and a still-bloody Spike entered the office. “What are you doing here, Spike?” Angel barked.

“Getting carved up,” Spike shot back. “What are you doin’ here, Peaches?”

“Don’t, Spike,” Fred warned him. Turning to Angel, she said, “Spike saved my life, Angel.”

Wesley frowned. “What happened?”

“That prat, Knox, had plans for Fred,” Spike said. “Not quite sure what they were, but it wasn’t good.”

Angel shook his head. “What are you talking about, Spike?”

Spike raised his shirt, showing off Fred’s first aid job. “He got upset when I kept her from touchin’ this stone coffin, and then he pulled a knife on me. I’m thinkin’ that’s a pretty good sign the git wasn’t up to anything good.”

“I’d say you were correct,” Wesley agreed. “Do we know anything about Knox or this—coffin?”

Fred shook her head. “I haven’t gotten the chance to investigate yet,” she replied. “I think Lorne did a reading on Knox, though.”

“Wait a minute,” Angel said, holding up a hand. “Aren’t we jumping to conclusions here? I want to pull a knife on Spike on a daily basis. Just because—”

Fred glared at him. “We know what happened, Angel. Knox isn’t what I—we thought he was. I think we should probably do some investigating.”

“There are other things going on,” Angel replied. “I think—”

“If someone tried to harm Fred, I think that ought to be our first priority,” Wesley said, his eyes narrowing. The tension in the room went up several notches.

Angel finally seemed to remember that his friends should be his first responsibility. “Fine. Do what you need to do to take care of it.”

Something close to regret flitted over Wesley’s face. “Angel—”

“I’m not going to discuss this with you, Wes,” Angel said. “It was my decision.”

Wesley’s hands flexed, and Spike wondered if the ex-Watcher was going to go after his grandsire. “Better see to our leads, mate,” Spike said softly.

Wesley nodded tightly. “We aren’t done with this, Angel.”

Angel didn’t reply, going back to his paperwork. He waited until the door closed behind them to put his head in his hands. This was getting out of control. He had no idea how to fix this mess, and now it seemed that just being at Wolfram and Hart was going to place his friends in danger.

Even though they had grown apart, Angel still felt responsible for their well-being. Of course, he was also certain of the rightness of his actions. He would stay at the law firm, because he had made a commitment, and he had put his immortal soul on the line.

It wasn’t the first time that he had wondered if he had done the right thing.

~~~~~

The shipping and receiving information didn’t give them many clues as to the artifact’s purpose or origins. What they did discover was that it had been held up in Customs for quite a while until Gunn had signed a piece of paper.

Wesley had wanted to find Gunn and ask him about it immediately, but he wasn’t in the office, and Spike and Fred had managed to convince him to wait until they knew more. “It might be completely innocent, Wesley,” Fred said.

Wesley wasn’t so sure. Neither was Spike for that matter, but the vampire was inclined to want as much information about the sarcophagus as possible. That way, they would know how badly to hurt Gunn when they did confront him.

They had barely scratched the surface, and Spike knew they were in for a long night of going through dusty old books. He was starting to think about heading back to the Hyperion since he didn’t think he could be of much use.

A secretary, one of the many at Wolfram and Hart, knocked hesitantly on Wesley’s door. “Sir?”

“What is it, Audra?” he asked, not bothering to hide the impatience in his tone.

She flinched. “There’s a problem. One of the employees was just taken ill. It has something to do with the new arrival in the technology lab.”

Wesley was out of his seat in a moment. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Audra said, shaking her head. “We just got the call. Since Miss Burkle was here, I thought you might want to know…”

“You did the right thing,” Wesley replied, composing himself. He turned to Fred and Spike. “I think we ought to check this out.”

Fred was looking guilty. “Wes, I didn’t even think about leaving that thing in the lab. I should have warned people, or put a sign on it, or something.”

“It’s done now,” Spike said, sounding grim. “An’ it’s not your fault, ducks. We had plenty on our minds.”

Wesley hesitated. “Spike, I think you ought to head back to the hotel. Fred and I will meet you there a little later.”

The vampire shook his head. “Wes—”

Wesley shook his head, cutting off Spike’s protests. “You’re still hurt,” he pointed out. “There’s no sense in placing yourself in more danger. Let Buffy and Cordelia know what’s been going on here. We’ll fill you in once we’ve found out what’s happened.”

Spike didn’t look happy, but he nodded. “Right. See you later then.”

~~~~~

There wasn’t a lot to do once Cordy had given the Slayer a tour. The two women could only find so much to talk about, so many stories to share, before an uncomfortable silence fell. With no TV or anything else at the Hyperion, it seemed that they could look forward to a very boring afternoon and evening.

“Are you hungry?” Buffy asked after a while.

Cordelia shook her head. “Not really.” She sighed. “I wonder where my computer got to. If we had internet, we could do—something.”

Buffy sighed. “Do you want to get out of here for a while? We could go shopping.”

Cordy hesitated, and then she shook her head. “That sounds nice, but what if somebody calls?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Another silence fell, even more uncomfortable than the last. They might have sat like that forever, or at least until Buffy went to the basement to use some of the training equipment she’d seen down there, except that Cordelia suddenly straightened. “We’ve got a problem.”

“What is it?” Buffy tried not to sound too hopeful. She really wanted out of there.

“Vision,” Cordelia replied, holding a hand up for silence. “Big demon, horns, trying to sacrifice a girl for some reason.”

Buffy tried to squelch her excitement, but with little success. This was more like it. “Do you know where?”

“Yeah,” Cordelia replied. “I can drive us if you’ve got a car.”

“I don’t,” Buffy replied, then she smiled. “Although, I think Spike rode back to the office with Wesley. His car should still be here.”

Cordelia stood. “I’ll drive.”

“I can drive!” Buffy protested.

Cordy fixed the Slayer with a look. “Buffy, I remember how you drive. I was the one with the wheels in high school, remember?”

“A lot has changed since then,” Buffy said petulantly. “I _can_ drive.”

“I’ll drive,” Cordy insisted. “A lot has changed, but I know I can drive. I don’t know anything about your driving talents.”

Still bickering, they headed out to take care of the demon.

~~~~~

Spike walked into the empty hotel with a feeling of concern. “Slayer?” he called. “Buffy? Cordelia? H’lo?”

He was still trying to remember whether or not Buffy had given him her cell phone number when the two women walked into the hotel, arguing good-naturedly over who had managed to kill the demon. Buffy had been impressed with Cordelia’s slaying abilities, almost in spite of herself. Cordelia had come a long way since leaving Sunnydale.

“Where were you two?” he asked, sounding irritated.

They exchanged looks. “Out slaying,” Buffy replied off-handedly. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you,” Spike replied. “We had a situation at Wolfram and Hart.”

Cordelia’s eyes widened. “What happened?”

Spike quickly explained. “Fred and Wesley should be back here soon. Dunno what they were goin’ to do about the person who got sick,” he finished.

Cordelia appeared grim. “I told Angel that place was no good.”

“We don’t know why this happened,” Buffy reminded the seer. “It might be something completely unrelated to being at Wolfram and Hart.” She grimaced. “Although, it’s unlikely, I’ll grant you.” The Slayer looked at Spike. “I want to see that knife wound, and then you need to get cleaned up. I can go check out of my hotel and then come back.”

Spike winced. “The bastard completely ruined my shirt.”

“Good thing I got you some new clothes then, isn’t it?” Buffy asked smugly.

He sighed. “Just so you don’t make me look like a complete git.”

“Why would I do that?” Buffy teased him.

“Let’s see it, Slayer.” Spike followed her up the stairs to the room she’d marked as their own.

Cordelia couldn’t help but feel envious, watching them go. She remembered when she and Angel had that sort of easy camaraderie. She missed him, missed the man she’d fallen in love with. The Angel she’d seen reminded her of the time he’d gone so dark, when he had allowed Darla and Drusilla to kill all those lawyers.

She was afraid for him.

~~~~~

Spike stared at the t-shirt that Buffy had thrown in the trash can as she inspected the laceration in his side. “This isn’t looking too bad,” she commented. “You could get cleaned up, and I’ll bandage it for you after you get out of the shower.”

“You want me to go back to the hotel with you?” he asked.

Buffy shook her head. “Someone should be here with Cordelia.”

“Where were you two really?”

“She had a vision, and we left to take care of the demon.” Buffy smiled. “She’s actually not too bad with a sword. I was impressed.”

Spike smiled in response, but the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s good.”

Buffy stared at him thoughtfully, and then she leaned in and kissed him, slowly, sweetly, deeply. “I love you,” she murmured.

“What was that for?” Spike asked, sounding a little dazed.

She pressed her lips to his forehead. “You looked like you needed it.” Buffy rummaged through the shopping bags for something for him to wear. “Now, go get cleaned up.”

Spike let the hot water from the shower rush over him, not quite able to believe what was happening. A few days ago, he’d had nothing, nothing except for his soul really, and maybe Wesley’s friendship. Today, it seemed that he had a purpose, a place to stay, and Buffy.

He kept waiting to wake up.

When he had gotten out of the shower and towelled off, Spike took a look at the clothing Buffy had purchased for him. It wasn’t too bad, really. Better than he’d thought. Dark blue jeans, black t-shirt, red button-down that was reminiscent of a shirt he’d had years ago. He pulled the jeans on, but left his chest bare so Buffy could re-bandage the wound. It was healing nicely, but he’d need to put something on it for at least another day.

Buffy fussed over him when he came back out, her hands gentle. “This is a little weird,” he murmured.

“I know,” she replied, not meeting his eyes. “It feels like no time has passed, and like we’ve lived whole lifetimes.”

Spike suddenly realized that the Slayer might be having just as difficult a time of things as he was. They both had their insecurities, and hers had probably been triggered by his long silence after being brought back. Putting a finger under her chin, tilting her head up so she met his eyes, Spike said, “I love you.”

“I know.” Buffy smiled. “I love you too.”

They would let that be all that mattered.


	11. Dark Night

**“So I just feel my way to you/I try to keep you close/I was never very good at getting/What I need the most/So it seems/Life is just a troubled sea/That we sail for free/Don’t let me drown/If the rest of the world’s going down/You’ve got to breathe your breath in me…” ~Over the Rhine, “Fairpoint Diary”**

Neither Wesley nor Fred were entirely prepared for what they found in the Wolfram &amp; Hart hospital wing. The young lab tech laying in bed was obviously in a lot of pain, and as soon as the doctor in charge saw them, he came hurrying up.

“Miss Burkle,” he said, in a low voice. “We have a problem.”

Fred pulled her eyes away from the young man. “What’s wrong?”

“Mr. Andrews has been infected with something from the artifact in the science lab. We’re not sure if we’re going to be able to reverse the effects.” Dr. Christoll shook his head. “In fact, what’s happening is impossible.”

“What is happening?” Wesley asked.

“For lack of a better way to put it, his organs are boiling, liquefying.” He shook his head. “If we don’t find a way to reverse this, and soon…”

Dr. Christoll left the thought unfinished, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what he meant. “I’ll start work on figuring out what the sarcophagus is doing in my lab,” Fred finally said. “Maybe once we figure out what’s inside it—”

“No.” Wesley was shaking his head. “It’s too dangerous. If Knox—”

“The damage has been done, Wesley,” Fred replied sharply. “I should have said something, put a note on it. If Si dies, it’s my fault.”

Wesley frowned, and then nodded. “Fine, but I want you in full gear when you examine that thing, Fred.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job,” she hissed in reply. “I’m—”

“Too important to me to want to lose you.”

That shut her up. Fred fell silent, staring at him. “Wesley—”

The kiss he gave her was quick, but filled with promise. “I’ll go consult my books,” Wesley said. “With any luck we’ll figure out what the bloody hell that thing means to us.”

“I’ll be careful,” she promised. Fred was certain that her insides were melting. Wesley could be so sweet when he wanted to be, and that kiss…

He smiled and then left Fred to hurry to her lab to start her own tests.

~~~~~

Gunn found it strange to be back at the hotel. So many things had happened there, both good and bad. He wasn’t the same person who had first walked through these doors.

“Gunn!”

Cordelia stood there, a bright smile blooming on her face. “What are you doing here?”

“Came to see you,” he replied, easily falling back into the same speech rhythm he’d used. “Had to see the miracle woman.”

She laughed and hugged him. “I’m glad you came. How did you find me? Did you see Wesley or Fred?”

Gunn shook his head. “No, not today. Angel said you were back, but when I called Wes, he wasn’t home. I thought this was the next logical place to look.”

Cordy smiled. “So now you’re logic-boy, huh?”

“When I need to be,” Gunn said.

“Was it logic that told you to sign the customs papers for that big stone coffin?”

Gunn froze. It had been a while since he’d been on the streets, but he could still sense danger. Spike’s voice held the promise of violence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, trying to decide how he wanted to handle this.

Spike grabbed his shoulder, spun him around, and slammed him against the desk. “I don’t believe you.”

“Spike, you’re going to open up that knife wound,” Buffy warned him from the sidelines. She had no intention of stepping between the two men. He had told her that Gunn was somehow behind the presence of that sarcophagus in Fred’s lab, and that his getting stabbed had something to do with it.

Besides, Buffy trusted her vampire. If he was pissed off, he probably had reason.

Cordelia didn’t have the same kind of faith. “Spike! What are you doing?”

“Let me fill you in,” Spike replied through gritted teeth, still keeping a tight grip on the lawyer. “When I was with Fred earlier, there was a new addition to the lab that spit out some kind of stream of air. I don’t know what it was s’posed to do to her, but Knox was so brassed off about me getting in the way that he stuck a knife through my ribs.”

Gunn was beginning to get a sinking feeling in his gut. “That doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

“Doesn’t it?” Spike asked. “Imagine our surprise when it turned out you signed the order to get that thing through customs. Now, you have exactly one minute to convince me you don’t know what that bastard had planned for Fred. After that, I rip your throat out.”

“I didn’t know!” Gunn protested. “I signed the paper, but I didn’t know what it was for.”

Both Cordelia and Buffy were staring at him with expressions of disappointment and uncertainty. Cordelia was shaking her head. “I’m sure it was an innocent mistake,” she said. “Gunn just signed a big stack of papers and that one got slipped in there with the rest.”

The look on Gunn’s face told them that Cordelia was rather far off the mark. “Cordy—”

“What did you do?” she asked in a quiet voice.

Gunn shook his head. “Cordy, you don’t understand. It was slipping. I was losing it, and that was the only way I could make sure I kept what they gave me.”

“What they gave you?” Cordy demanded. “A job?”

“No! This knowledge!” he said. “For the first time in my life, I wasn’t just the muscle. I was—”

“Special,” Spike finished for him. “You were a bloody hero, and you could do things no one else could do.” Gunn was silent, not bothering to contradict the vampire. “You should get back to the office,” he suggested, his voice cold. “While Fred wasn’t harmed, one of the lab techs got caught up in this. Apparently, he got sick. Wes an’ Fred are handling it.”

Gunn wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. “I should get back then.”

Cordelia watched him go, silent. “What happened?” she asked, her tone flat.

“They filled his brain up with all kinds of information he wouldn’t have had otherwise,” Spike explained quietly. “They gave him what he wanted.”

“Gunn didn’t want that!” Cordelia protested. “He never would have joined Wolfram and Hart! This is—”

“Crazy,” Buffy said softly, having watched the tableau with no little sympathy for the participants. “You take a break from things, and suddenly everything is different.”

Cordelia was still shaking her head. “I still don’t understand.”

“What’s not to understand?” Spike asked. “The law firm figured out what everybody wanted, and then they gave it to them.” He looked down at his hand. “Even me,” he murmured.

“You don’t think they turned you solid just so they could control you,” Buffy objected. “Because if that’s what they did, they don’t know you at all.”

Spike chuckled. “You’ve got the right of it, luv. There’s no way I’d work for Peaches for any length of time. No, I figure they meant to get rid of me. Or maybe they just wanted me gone. I was a mistake they couldn’t wait to cover up.”

“Well, I would call that a good mistake,” Buffy said firmly. “I don’t care why you’re here, I’m just glad you are. It looks like we’re going to have to figure out what they’re up to, though.”

“I think we need to know what kind of a hold they have on Gunn,” Cordelia said. “Wes and Fred said they didn’t sign anything. We need to know the details of Gunn and Angel’s contracts, and we need to find out how we’re going to get them out of there.”

“You’re overlooking one small detail,” Spike said gently.

Cordy frowned. “What’s that?”

“You’re assumin’ they’ll want to leave in the first place.”

~~~~~

Fred’s research didn’t uncover anything, but Wesley found what he was looking for in his books. The news wasn’t good, and Angel was suddenly involved, since it meant the possible emergence of a god of some type.

“Can we stop it?” Angel asked. His differences with Wesley had been put on hold for the time being, but the tension between them thickened the air.

Wesley hesitated before replying. “I’m not sure. The sarcophagus was to be held in what is called the ‘Deeper Well,’ but our information is sketchy. I can get you a location, but—”

“What good is a location going to do us?” Angel asked impatiently. “It was supposed to stay there, and it didn’t. Do we know how it got here?”

“Yes, we do,” Wesley said quietly. “Apparently, it was held up in customs until Gunn signed the papers to have it released. We aren’t sure why yet, though. I tried to speak with him earlier today, but he’s been out of the office.”

“He went to see Cordy,” Angel replied, looking up as Fred walked in. “Fred, what have you got for me?”

“Not much,” she admitted, guilt written all over her expressive features. “None of our scans are penetrating the stone, which is really strange. What I can tell you is that Si’s skin is hardening, and it’s getting worse fast.”

Angel frowned. “How long does he have?”

“A few hours, maybe a day at the most,” Fred replied. “We’re trying everything we can to isolate the parasite that’s working on him, but we keep running up against dead ends.”

Angel stood and began to pace. “What happens if we can’t stop it?”

Wesley took a deep breath. “It’s hard to say. Most likely, the man will disappear and the old one—Illyria was his name—will take his place.”

“Will he be powerful?”

“Yes,” Wesley replied. “He will have certain powers. Before you ask, yes, I do believe he would be dangerous, although I’m not sure how much so.”

Angel was deep in thought, his chin resting on his chest. “And if he dies before the transformation is complete?”

Wes and Fred exchanged concerned looks. “Angel, the transformation is what’s going to kill him,” Fred said quietly.

“But what if he doesn’t make it through the transformation?”

Wesley stood. “You can’t be thinking—”

“I’m considering all our options, Wes,” Angel cut him off, his tone even. “I’m not saying it’s going to come to that.”

“Angel, he’s an innocent,” Fred protested. “You’re suggesting that we kill an innocent person.”

Angel shook his head. “I’m not suggesting anything. I just want to make sure I have all the facts.” He sat back down behind his desk. “You two should probably see what you can do about finding a different solution. The last thing we need is to have some kind of god running around.”

Wesley followed Fred out the door, stopping her with a hand on her arm. “Call Spike,” he urged. “Someone is going to need to make sure nothing happens to that young man.”

Fred stared at him. “Wesley, this is Angel. Surely you don’t believe that he would…” She trailed off. Angel had been strange lately, and she was no longer certain that she knew what their boss would do. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to see if I can reach Gunn,” Wesley replied. “I want to know why he signed those papers.”

“Don’t hurt him.” Fred’s eyes were pleading. “I’m sure there’s a good explanation.”

“We’ll see,” Wesley replied grimly, and then he kissed her forehead, pulling her towards him, the tender gesture at odds with his tone. “He might have cost me your life, Fred. Right when—”

“He didn’t.” Her arms came around him. “Wes, it’s going to be okay, I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”

His arms tightened. “No, not if I have anything to say about it.”

~~~~~

Gunn didn’t know what hit him. One minute he was walking into his office, and the next he found himself face down on top of his desk. “What—”

“Why’d you do it, Charles?” Wesley’s cold voice hit him hard. “You put all of us in danger, and for what?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Gunn replied. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

“Do you know there’s a young man dying in the medical wing right now?” Wesley said, shutting the door and drawing the blinds. “His organs are boiling, and his skin is hardening, preparing for some sort of god to take residence in his body. All because you signed a bloody sheet of paper. Why?”

“Because I was losing it!” Gunn shouted. “The knowledge, everything, was slipping. The guy told me he wouldn’t make the upgrade permanent unless I signed a piece of paper. I didn’t know what it was! I sign a hundred things every day!”

Wesley held up the piece of paper in question. “Do you know that the only reason Fred isn’t in that bed right now is because Spike was there? He shielded her, otherwise she would be the one dying right now.”

Gunn sank down onto his desk, staring at Wesley in horror. “Wes, man, I didn’t—”

“You didn’t ask!” Wesley burst out. “You didn’t ask, Charles, and your refusal to question is most likely going to cost a young man his life.”

Gunn looked away, refusing to meet Wesley’s eyes. “I never wanted that.”

“It doesn’t matter what you wanted,” Wesley shot back. “It’s what’s going to happen.” He lowered his voice. “We should never have come here.”

Gunn shook his head stubbornly. He wasn’t ready to believe that, wasn’t ready to believe that having all this knowledge could possibly be a bad thing. “Wesley, just because you’re not happy here…”

“I’m not happy?” Wesley challenged. “Look me in the eye and tell me you’re content here.”

“We’re doing some good,” Gunn insisted. “I know we are. It’s going to take some time to turn this place around, but—”

“It’s not going to happen.” Wesley shook his head. “Look, Gunn, you don’t know what Cordelia told me, why Angel came here. It might change your mind.”

“Maybe,” Gunn allowed. “And then again, maybe not. I’ll help you with this, Wes, it’s the least I can do, but—”

Wesley shook his head. “There’s nothing you can do,” he said harshly. “You’ve done enough already.”

Wesley turned and stalked out of the office. He was shaking with anger, and it had been everything he could do not to hurt Gunn any more than he had. Wesley couldn’t help but feel that it was all ending. Everything they had been, everything they had worked for, was going up in flames.

He had to wonder if that hadn’t been what Wolfram &amp; Hart had been after the entire time.


	12. Torn Apart

**“Walking out in the freezing rain/I feel nothing ‘cause I’ve numbed the pain/Looking forward to looking back/On this day/Prayed last night/Dear God please no/But I was never good at letting go…Good news can be so unkind/When it’s everything you have to/leave behind…” ~Over the Rhine, “Lookin’ Back”**

Buffy decided that she really, really hated Wolfram &amp; Hart. She’d refused to let Spike go back to the office building on his own, especially not with Fred worried about what Angel’s intentions were. If he figured out that she was sleeping with Spike—well, Angel had been known to be a little irrational where other guys were concerned.

It made no sense, though. _He_ had left _her_, for her own good, no less. Buffy was fully prepared to pop him one if he made so much as a snide remark.

The building gave her the creeps, though, and she slipped her hand into Spike’s for reassurance, gratified when he smiled at her. “Do you think Cordy will be okay on her own?” he asked quietly.

“Please, Spike, Cordelia can take care of herself,” Buffy replied. “Trust me. You didn’t see her with the sword today.”

Spike nodded, approaching the hospital wing where Fred had said the sick lab tech was. He frowned, slowing down suddenly. “Somethin’ isn’t right.”

Releasing her hand, Spike strode down the hallway, stopping just inside the doorway of the room. “Bloody hell.”

Buffy came up beside him, seeing the dead body of the man they were supposed to have been protecting. “Shit.”

They looked at each other, and then Spike entered the room, looking more closely at the body. The skin was mottled, and Spike touched the man’s arm tentatively. “Skin’s hard.”

Buffy had no desire to get any closer. She watched as Spike tipped the man’s head, looking for any sign of violence. “Was it that parasite-thingy that killed him?”

Spike shook his head. “Don’t think so. Fred was pretty clear that this illness wasn’t goin’ to kill him so much as transform him.”

“Then what did it?” Buffy asked, creeping just a little bit closer. “I mean—”

“Angel,” Spike said quietly and with conviction.

Buffy’s eyes widened. “Spike, I know you don’t like him, but—”

“It was Angel, pet.” Spike shook his head. “I can smell the bastard. I think he used a pillow.”

Buffy shuddered. “But, Spike, why? I get having to make hard decisions, but this was uncalled for.”

“This was premature,” Spike murmured. “Wanker didn’t want to take the time to solve the problem.” He laughed bitterly. “What happened to patience, Angelus?”

His question was so quiet Buffy nearly missed it, but she flinched at the name. “Spike, Angelus isn’t back.”

“No, but you should have heard some of the stories Wesley told me about Peaches when he did have his soul.” Spike gave her a sardonic look. “I tried to tell you for years that the soul doesn’t always make that much of a difference.”

Buffy flushed. “Yes, you did.” Turning to leave, she pulled out her cell phone. “I’ll call Fred and tell her what happened.”

“Buffy—” Spike reached for her, realizing that this might not have been the best time for I-told-you-so’s.

She shook her head. “No, you’re right, Spike. You tried to tell us. Hell, you tried to show us, and we were too blind to see.” Buffy gave him a weak smile. “I’m sorry.”

“There were a lot of things on your mind,” Spike said, trying to excuse her, hating to see that look of guilt on her face. Of course, it also felt pretty damn good to be believed for once.

Buffy’s eyes warmed slightly. “And now you’re on my mind.”

Spike stared at her retreating form as she ducked out the door, and a rather stupid grin broke out over his face. That’s the kind of thing he liked to hear, even if it did appear that they were walking right into trouble.

~~~~~

When the call came in from Buffy, the first thing Fred did was to call Wesley. He didn’t answer, so she left a voicemail, and then she marched off in search of Angel.

“What the hell were you thinking, Angel?” she demanded without preamble. “We were working on it.”

Angel glanced up, the expression on his face not one Fred had seen in the past. Wesley would have recognized it; the cold, forbidding look would have been quite familiar to him. “We can’t afford to have some kind of god running around, out of control,” Angel said calmly. “I took care of it.”

“He was an innocent person!” Fred exclaimed. “What if we could have found a way to save him?”

Angel’s eyes grew even colder. “Fred, he works at Wolfram and Hart. No one here is innocent.”

“What if it was me?” Fred asked in a small, hurt voice. “What if I had been the one infected?”

“That’s different.”

“How?” Fred’s voice was shaking. She didn’t recall ever standing up to Angel before. This was the man who had saved her life, who had rescued her from a horrible death in Pylea. He was supposed to be her hero. “Are we putting a price on life now, Angel?”

“It was a difficult decision, but it had to be done,” Angel said firmly. “Ask Wes about hard decisions if you’re not sure.”

“That would be rather difficult seeing as how I don’t remember what you’re most likely referring to,” Wesley said from the doorway.

Fred felt infinitely better for having backup. “Angel, we don’t get to make decisions about who lives and who dies. That’s not our job.”

“Sometimes it is,” Angel shot back. “We’re working at Wolfram and Hart, Fred. You knew this could get tough. If you can’t handle it, you don’t have to stay.”

Her head jerked back as though he’d slapped her, and she felt Wesley’s hand coming to rest on her back. “We’re leaving, Angel. It seems you don’t need us here any longer.”

There was an unseen war going on inside of Angel. He didn’t want to see them walk out, and he couldn’t imagine trying to run the firm without them there. He needed his whole team.

Angel also wanted them out, beyond danger, beyond the law firm’s reach. He’d crossed a line when he’d smothered that man, and even though he was firmly convinced that he’d made the right decision, it was the lesser of two evils.

Knowing that it might have been Fred in that hospital bed, Angel had wanted as many of his friends beyond danger as possible. “You should go.”

“What about Gunn and Lorne?” Fred asked.

“What about them?” Angel replied. “They’ll have to make their own decisions.”

Wesley was tugging on her arm. “Angel, you don’t have to stay—”

“Actually, I do,” Angel replied softly. He met Wesley’s eyes, and he could see that the ex-Watcher caught his meaning.

Fred knew exactly what the vampire meant as well. “Angel—”

“Goodbye, Fred.”

Never had that word sounded so final.

~~~~~

When Spike and Buffy entered the Hyperion, their grim visages had Cordelia standing up in alarm. “What happened? You guys weren’t gone for very long.”

“He was already dead,” Buffy said shortly.

Cordelia frowned. “But I thought Fred said they had more time.”

Spike ran a hand over his face. “He should have. Angel killed him.”

Cordy wished she could say that she was surprised. “What about his soul?”

Buffy shook her head. “He’s still got his soul, Cordy. I don’t know. Maybe there’s another explanation for this. Fred and Wes are supposed to meet us back here when they can get away. I think they were going to talk with Angel.”

“Is that safe?”

Spike was the one to answer her question. “He won’t hurt them. Angel still has a sense of who his friends are, but—” The vampire broke off, and then began again. “This was easier. He’s takin’ the easy way out. Again.”

Cordelia took a deep breath. She knew what Spike was saying. Angel had, in some ways, taken the easy way out when he’d had all their memories of Connor erased. Now he was doing the same thing, probably excusing his actions by saying they were for the common good.

“What do we do now?”

“Dunno,” Spike replied. “I’m open to suggestions.”

“Why do we have to do anything right now?” Buffy asked. “Let’s wait and see what the others have to say. We can figure out what to do then, as long as it includes sleeping.”

Spike nodded slowly. “Yeah, I gotta admit I’m knackered.”

It wasn’t good enough, but they didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter, Cordelia knew. She wanted to get out there and solve their problem. She wanted to kick Angel’s ass into the next century.

At the same time, she’d been through this before. There was no getting through to Angel when he was being this way. He had to figure it out on his own. Which just sucked.

“Okay,” she agreed. “We’ll wait.”

They didn’t have to wait long. Wes and Fred both came in about a half an hour after Spike and Buffy got back. “How bad is it?” Cordelia asked immediately.

“Remember when Angel let Darla and Drusilla eat all those lawyers?” Wesley asked with grim humor. “It’s that bad.”

Cordelia scowled. “I’m going to kill him,” she muttered. “Didn’t he learn his lesson last time?”

“It would appear not,” Wesley said, sitting wearily. “Although, to be fair, I think there’s more to it than that. From what you’ve said, these last couple years have not been easy for him.”

“Who cares?” Fred asked, uncharacteristically snappish. “He killed a man, Wesley! Because he didn’t want to wait.”

“I know, but he did have reason,” Wesley said gently. He was still wrestling with what Angel’s actions meant. “It may be that he did the right thing.”

Buffy shook her head. “I have to say I’m with Spike.” She’d been fairly quiet throughout the discussion, mostly because she had the sense that Angel wasn’t her territory any longer. This was now her problem only because it might end up being Spike’s problem. “Angel took the easy way out. He didn’t even wait to see if there was another way.”

A thick silence fell. “What about Lorne and Gunn?” Cordelia asked.

Wesley shook his head. “Gunn didn’t seem inclined to listen to reason, and Lorne has been out the last few days.”

“I left a message on his voicemail to come here when he got back,” Fred explained. “If nothing else, he’ll want to see you, Cordy.”

“That would be good,” she said softly. “Isn’t there something we can do for Angel, though?”

Spike sighed. “If we can get our hands on a copy of his contract, that might help.”

“Cordelia or Fred should probably ask him,” Wesley said ruefully. “We aren’t on the best of terms at the moment.”

“I’ll call him tomorrow,” Fred offered.

Wesley stood. “Very well. I should probably head back to my place. It’s late. Fred, do you want a ride?”

“That would be nice.”

There was a chorus of good-nights as they left, and then Cordelia stood as well. “I think I’m going to head up,” she said, her eyes still troubled. “Like Wesley said, it’s late.”

Spike and Buffy watched her go, and then the vampire looked over at her. “What are you thinking, luv?”

“This feels really wrong,” Buffy admitted.

Spike raised an eyebrow. “What? Angel goin’ over to the dark side?”

“Yeah.” Buffy stopped there, unsure of how to continue. She was afraid of making Spike angry by talking about the other vampire, knowing that he could easily get jealous.

He frowned. “Spit it out, Slayer.”

“I never thought Angel would be the one to give up,” Buffy admitted. “I thought he was more, I don’t know, solid than that.”

Spike was quiet, unsure of how to say what he wanted to say without pissing her off. “Maybe your idea of Angel wasn’t based on what he was really like.”

“Maybe,” Buffy agreed. “I guess it’s been a long time since we had any kind of talk. The last time I saw him, before he gave me the amulet, we didn’t have anything to say to each other. I couldn’t even tell him I’d been in heaven.”

Spike cocked his head to the side. “I was the only one you told? I thought—”

“You were the only one I could tell,” Buffy confessed. “Partly because I knew you wouldn’t tell anybody, and partly it was because I thought you were the only one who could handle it.”

“You’re sayin’ you trusted me with that information.”

“I’ve trusted you for a long time now, Spike.”

“Even after—”

Buffy shook her head. “Well, no, but when you came back with your soul…” She trailed off. “I never really told you how much that meant to me.”

“I think I knew.” Spike ran a finger down her cheek in a tender gesture. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he said. “I keep thinkin’ I’m in a dream and I’m goin’ to wake up.”

Buffy smiled. “If this was a dream, I don’t think Angel would be in it at all,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, but—”

“If this is a dream, let’s not wake up,” she suggested. “I really kind of like it here, possible catastrophes aside.”

“We’ll stay here forever, then,” he murmured. “Or maybe we’ll find somethin’ better.”

“Mmm,” Buffy agreed, her words muffled by his kiss. “As long as we’re both there.”

~~~~~

Cordelia stood by the window of her darkened room and wondered why the hell she’d been brought back, because she was tired of this. Tired of apocalypses, tired of things always going wrong. She was especially tired of her friends possibly turning evil. How on earth was she going to get Angel out of the law firm?

She didn’t have a clue as to where to start.

There were no simple answers this time, although she wasn’t sure there were ever any simple answers. They couldn’t curse him with a soul, since his soul was already there. They couldn’t ask him to leave, because he seemed determined to stay.

Cordelia frowned. It seemed the only way to get Angel out of the law firm was to make him feel like he didn’t need to be there. Perhaps that would mean finding a way to get him out of his contract, or to find a way to break the memory spell in a way that wouldn’t damage Connor.

Or maybe both.

How any of that was to be accomplished, Cordelia didn’t know, but she’d never let that stop her in the past. She wanted her Angel back, and she wasn’t going to let anything stop her. After all, Cordelia had always been very good at getting exactly what she wanted.


	13. If Nothing Else

**“…For the night sky is an ocean/black distant sea/washing up to my window/all the stray dog night owl junkies/orphans vagabonds/all the angels who lost their halos/If nothing else/ I can dream/I’ll never tell never tell/all I’ve seen/right in front of me,/like the ghost of everything that I could be/in the cool and callous grip of reality…” ~Over the Rhine, “If Nothing Else”**

Wesley pulled up outside of Fred’s apartment. Neither of them spoke, and the silence stretched between them tautly. “We did it.”

He didn’t have to ask what she was referring to. “Yes, I suppose we did.”

“Do you think Lorne will join us?”

A week ago, Wesley might have been able to answer that question with confidence—hell, a week ago he would have answered nearly any question with confidence. Tonight, he felt drained of all knowledge. As though he wasn’t quite sure of his own name. “I don’t know.”

“Will you come up?” Fred asked suddenly, turning in the seat to face him fully.

Wesley’s eyes went wide. “What?”

“I don’t want to be alone,” Fred replied. “It’s not—I mean, it’s too soon, but—”

“I’ll stay.” He spoke impulsively, but he didn’t regret the words once they were out. The gratitude on Fred’s face would have been reward enough to ensure his cooperation. Wesley parked and then followed her up, noting for the thousandth time the slenderness of her frame, the grace of her walk.

He had adored her awkwardness, her rambles, the way she had been so unsure of herself when she had first come to them. These days he admired her strength, her wit, and her determination.

There were things that were worth waiting for. Wesley thought Fred might be one of them.

Fred unlocked the door to her apartment and let him precede her inside. “I’m sorry it’s kind of a mess,” she apologized. “I haven’t been around much to clean.”

“I understand.” And he did, which was why she offered him a grateful smile.

She felt unaccountably nervous all of a sudden. “I just—there’s the one bed. I thought—”

What she might have been thinking, Wesley never found out. He cut off her words with a kiss, needing to feel her, to know that she was alright. He owed Spike a debt he could not repay, because after seeing the poor man who had been infected with the parasite from within the sarcophagus, Wesley knew he’d almost lost her.

Fred, as he knew her, would have been gone. Their time would have been cut short.

Still, there was nothing frantic about their embrace. Now that they were out of the law office, now that they were safe, Wesley could take his time. After all, he’d been waiting for long enough.

Fred relaxed into the embrace, remembering Spike’s question of whether or not Wesley had “snogged her senseless.” She wondered if this was what he’d meant, because she didn’t feel senseless. Pleasantly muddled, maybe. And her limbs felt almost liquid, but strong. She felt strong at the same time.

When their kiss broke off, Fred gave a happy sigh and laid her head on Wesley’s chest. “Maybe you could share the bed,” she suggested. “Just to sleep.”

“That sounds lovely.” Wesley thought it was a dream come true. He had no idea what had changed, why Fred would have gone from assuring him that they were just friends to viewing him in a completely different light.

For once, however, he didn’t want to know why. He just wanted to enjoy the moment. With everything that had been going on recently, Wesley had no idea when such an opportunity would arise again.

As Cordy might have said, it was time to carpe some diem.

~~~~~

Spike was still having trouble shaking the idea that this was all a dream. It was all too surreal.

Buffy was here, she wasn’t running away, and she was close enough to touch. Not right at the moment maybe, since she was still in the shower, but in principle.

He could probably go join her, but Spike was content to lay in their bed, waiting, listening to the sounds of her in the bathroom. It was very nearly lulling him to sleep, but when she came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he tried to rouse himself.

Buffy watched him, amused. “Go back to sleep, Spike.”

“Wasn’t asleep,” he argued lazily. “I was waitin’ for you.”

“I have to dry my hair,” she replied.

He snorted. “And how am I supposed to sleep with all that racket?”

“Then don’t sleep.”

To the observer, the exchange might have been mistaken for one of their fights, but Buffy was perfectly relaxed, and Spike had dropped back down on the bed. He was watching her through heavy-lidded eyes as she dried and brushed her hair. Spike was only about half-awake at this point, and he relaxed further.

When she climbed into bed next to him, he pulled her in close, burying his face in her clean hair and taking a deep breath.

It was easy to lie there next to her, easy to let the heat from her body seep into his. That last year, when they had fought the First, this was the lesson they had learned: to be easy in one another’s company.

“Are you alright?” Spike asked. Sleepy as he was, there was still a worry niggling at the back of his mind.

“Yes, now go to sleep.”

“Not until I’m sure.”

The rebuke was mild, but it had her turning in his arms until they were nearly nose to nose. “What do you want me to say, Spike? That I was wrong? That you could be just as good without a soul as Angel can be bad with one?”

“Hush, luv.” He took her hand in his to soothe her. “Buffy, this has nothin’ to do with me. I just know—how even when you don’t love somebody, you can care about them.”

She shook her head stubbornly. In Buffy’s mind, the two vampires were linked. She had been wrong, and Spike had paid for it. “If I had—”

“Don’t.” He cut her off almost harshly. “Won’t have you beatin’ yourself up over Peaches. You know as well as I do that year was a bad one for both of us. I could have stopped it any time.”

“I never really told you how sorry I was.”

“That’s because you didn’t need to.”

The silence that lay between them then was not quite comfortable, but it was honest. “We wasted a lot of time,” Buffy murmured. “I thought we had more.”

“You never know how much time you have,” Spike reminded her. “Either of us. We’ll make the best of what we’ve got now.” Tenderly, he cupped her cheek. “I love you.”

She didn’t reply, although it wasn’t because she didn’t return the feelings. The last few days had been an emotional roller coaster, and Buffy found herself overwhelmed with feelings she didn’t know what to do with. Instead, she moved even closer, hot tears dampening Spike’s chest.

And because Spike knew her so well, he didn’t try and make it better, didn’t try to wash it away with words. He simply held her, knowing that her being there, letting him in like this, was response enough.

~~~~~

Lorne walked into the Hyperion hotel with mixed feelings. As happy as he was to have Cordelia back—and he was most certainly happy—the entire team had been torn asunder in the last few days upon her awakening.

He couldn’t manage to be happy about that.

The message from Wesley had reached him before Lorne had a chance to check in with Angel. The news was shocking, to say the least. Just the idea of Angel stealing his memories would have been bad, but pair that with the news that the vampire had killed an innocent and Lorne started to get nervous.

Nervous enough not to let Angel know where he was going—and nervous enough to do as Fred asked and pick up copies of Angel and Gunn’s contracts.

“Lorne!” Cordelia came out from behind the front desk as soon as she spotted him, enveloping him in a warm embrace. “It’s so good to see you!”

“You too, cupcake,” Lorne replied, and even the shock wasn’t enough to bleed the affection out of his voice. “And may I say you look absolutely scrumptious?”

Cordy grinned, although she tried to hide it. “Stop that. I do not.”

“Of course you do.” Lorne was all sincerity. “After everything—” He faltered and stopped. “Well, you look great.”

“Thanks.” Cordelia led him over to the round couch in the lobby. “I take it you got Wes’ message.”

“I spoke with Fredikins, too,” Lorne replied. He held up the thick sheaf of paper he was carrying. “She asked me to pull Angel and Gunn’s contracts.”

Cordelia frowned, concerned. “You aren’t going to get in trouble for that, are you?”

“I doubt it,” Lorne replied. “Angel’s holed up in his office right now. I doubt he’d notice if the building caught fire.”

“And Gunn?”

“Gunn’s on our side, Cordy,” Lorne replied. “He just doesn’t know it yet. Poor boy still thinks that Wolfram and Hart can do good. He has to, because otherwise he has to face the fact that he sold out for nothing.”

Cordy sighed. Lorne’s estimation squared with her own. Angel was still enjoying his vacation in the land of denial, and Gunn was trying very hard not to think about how wrong things had gone. “I guess when Wes and Fred get here we can start going over their contracts, maybe find a loophole.”

Lorne shook his head. Normally he was a fairly optimistic demon, but these last couple of years had taken the Pollyanna right out of him. “Good luck,” he replied dubiously. “Those lawyers there know what they’re doing when they draw up a contract.”

“Lorne, you didn’t—”

“I didn’t.” Lorne patted her hand. “After seeing Miss Morgan? As tempting as the job was, I wasn’t about to sign away my life after death too. I’d much rather just stay dead.” Cordelia sighed in relief, and he continued. “So where are Fred and Wesley?”

Cordy shrugged. “Fred called earlier and said they had to go back over to Wes’ place so he could clean up and get a change of clothes. Spike and Buffy are still sleeping, I think. It’s been a really long week for all of us.”

“So I can see.” Lorne looked around the lobby of the Hyperion with ill-disguised longing. He had been happy here. That much he was certain of. Perhaps they would be happy here again.

The demon just wasn’t sure if it would be with or without the rest of their team.

~~~~~

Hours later, the office and lobby were littered with pizza boxes and take-out containers. Both Buffy and Cordelia had given up on the research and were watching Spike, Fred, and Wesley listlessly. They were no closer to figuring out how to get Angel out of his contract.

Gunn’s contract gave him an out as long as he didn’t go to work for a competing firm and didn’t take any clients with him. They had been comforted by that discovery. When—or if—Gunn came to his senses, he could leave. There was nothing stopping him except for himself.

Angel was a completely different story.

“I can’t believe this,” Spike finally growled, throwing a handful of papers down on the table. “Does he not care about his soul? What the bloody hell was he thinkin’?”

“I imagine he was thinking of nothing else but how to save his son,” Wesley replied wearily. “Unfortunately, that does not give us much to work with.”

Cordelia rubbed her eyes. “What if he breaks the contract and just leaves?”

“Angel loses his soul,” Fred replied, making a face. “Not only that, but it—I guess you could say it goes into protective custody. Wolfram and Hart would still have it. They can do whatever they want with it.”

Buffy laughed bitterly. “That bastard. If he leaves and they keep the soul—”

“We can’t even perform the curse again,” Spike finished for her.

“That about sums it up,” Wesley agreed, burying his face in his hands.

Spike shook his head. “What if we had something to control Wolfram and Hart? Something they wanted?”

“What’s that going to be?” Cordelia asked. “They’re a really powerful law firm. They’ve got offices all over the world.”

“Not to mention in several different dimensions,” Fred pointed out.

Wesley sighed. “It’s not a bad idea, Spike. How we would find such information, though…”

“Why should we?” Buffy asked quietly. She flushed slightly when every pair of eyes turned to look at her. “I’m not saying we should throw him to the wolves or anything, but Angel isn’t doing any harm right now. In fact, he’s probably preventing Wolfram and Hart from doing really bad stuff. It might be a good idea to leave him where he’s at for now.”

There was a long silence. “I think Buffy might be right.”

Spike’s words hit Wesley hard. Even though the vampire didn’t much care for Angel, Wesley knew that Spike was the one least likely to give up. Apparently, Fred didn’t feel the same way, because she burst out, “We can’t give up on him! He wouldn’t do that to us!”

“No, but I think Spike and Buffy are right,” Cordelia stated. “At least for now. If we’re going to get Angel out of there, it’s going to take time and probably a lot of careful planning. We have to decide what we’re going to do in the meantime. It doesn’t look like we’ll have to pay rent on this place, not since Angel managed to pay it off. As long as he doesn’t evict us.”

“The Council is paying me,” Buffy said. “I mean, I’m staying, and I’ll help, but I’m basically a volunteer at this point. Heck, I could even support Spike.”

Spike gave her a wry look. “Think I’ll pass on that generous offer, luv. I can pay my own way. Just have to find out how.”

“Why not start up Angel Investigations again?” Cordy asked, looking at Wesley. “We did okay last time he wasn’t around. With Spike and Buffy—”

Wesley began to smile. “We would be in even better shape.” He threw a warm smile at Fred. “I daresay the same could be said for having Winifred as well.”

“And Lorne?” Fred asked. “Do you think he’d help?”

“He will help,” Wesley said. “Lorne is planning on taking his time leaving Wolfram and Hart, however. I think he’d like to start something like Caritas up again, but that will take contacts and money. Lorne said he’d be happy to act as our unofficial eyes and ears.”

“Then are we all agreed?” Cordelia asked.

Wesley and Fred both nodded. Cordy glanced over at Spike, who in turn looked at Buffy. “What do you say, pet?”

“If you stay, I’m staying,” Buffy replied determinedly. “If this is what you want, I’m in.”

A smile touched Spike’s lips. “Why not?” he asked. “We’ll save a few innocents on the way to saving Angel from himself.”

Cordelia felt nothing but relief. It wasn’t going to be easy, but at least they had a direction now. They had a plan.

She felt like she had a place again, and a purpose.


	14. A Meeting of Minds

**“Go down easy, babe/go down slow./Take all the time you need./We’ve no place else to go./ You threw a noose around my shadow./Got me into all this mess./I would have dove in first anyway/for less, for a whole lot less./Say farewell to the confines of my own backyard./ Weeds growin’ ‘round the flowers./Sometimes the only way to break the curse/is to leave it all behind.” ~Over the Rhine, “Go Down Easy”**

Dawn muttered to herself as she struggled to pull the second suitcase off the baggage carousel. Not that she blamed Buffy for wanting her own stuff, and the suitcase only held a fraction of it, but still. You’d think her sister would be grateful enough to send someone to help her if she couldn’t get away herself. But, no. Buffy had to—

A strong hand joined hers on the handle, and the suitcase was clear of the metal side. “Want some help with that, Bit?”

Dawn whirled, finding herself nose to t-shirt clad chest. “Spike?”

“Yeah, I—” He didn’t get a chance to finish, since Dawn had thrown her arms around him. “Nice to see you too,” Spike muttered, returning her embrace.

“How are you?” she demanded. “Are you okay? Buffy told me about what Dana did, but she said you were okay. And the knife! You got stabbed, right? Did you find the guy who did it? Buffy said—”

Spike chuckled, stopping her words by holding up a hand. “I knew there was gonna be hell to pay for lettin’ you and your sis talk so many hours on the phone.”

“Are you okay?” Dawn repeated, searching his face. Some of the weariness that had been present in those last days in Sunnydale was gone, at least. She still thought Spike appeared to have aged since the first time she saw him, even though that was supposed to be impossible for vampires. He looked better, though, happier even.

He smiled at her gently. “Yeah, ‘m fine. You ready to take off?”

“If we can manage to get this baggage out of here,” Dawn groused good-naturedly. “You should have seen the expressions on the faces of the guys in Customs.”

“They probably thought you needed a bag just for your shoes,” Spike teased.

Dawn huffed. “Excuse me? I think you’re confusing me with my sister. Buffy’s the one with the shoe fetish, not me.”

They stared at each other, and they both grew suddenly serious. “I’m sorry, Spike.”

“Forget it,” he replied gruffly.

She shook her head. “It was really stupid not to talk to you. Buffy told me about what happened after—you know. I felt like—”

“Forget it,” Spike repeated, cutting her off. “It’s water under the bridge an’ all that, yeah?”

Dawn nodded. “Okay.”

“You just stayin’ for the week, then?” Spike asked.

She shrugged. “It’s all the time I’ve got. It might be nice to actually finish up a school year for once.”

Spike hesitated and then asked, “But you’re still thinkin’ ‘bout comin’ back here after that, right?”

“No, actually I was thinking I might join a commune in Tibet and make shawls.” Dawn rolled her eyes at him. “I told both of you that I would come back. Rome was cool, but—” She stopped, unsure of how to explain that it didn’t hold nearly as much charm as the idea of having her family all back together again. She had one more year of high school after this, and she wanted to spend it with the people she loved.

Spike shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable with the outpouring of emotion. It still felt strange to him that people were so demonstrative. “It’ll be good to have you back. You’ll have to tell us whether or not the hotel suits.”

“I’m sure it’s fine, Spike,” Dawn replied. “It’s definitely better than the old house with, like, twenty other girls, right?”

He laughed. “Yeah. Lot more space than that.”

“So where’s Buffy?”

Spike hesitated. “Cordy had a vision. It was a toss-up as to who went, but—” He cleared his throat. “She thought we might want some time.”

Dawn grinned. “Good. I hope you’re planning on buying me dinner, because I’m starved.”

~~~~~

Buffy made a face and spat onto the ground. “Have I ever mentioned how much I hate vamp dust?”

“Not within the last day or two,” Wesley replied, his tone dry.

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Just because your head is higher so you don’t keep getting mouthfuls of the stuff doesn’t mean you can mock me.”

“Who said anything about mocking?” Wesley reached into the car and pulled out a bottle of water, tossing it to the Slayer.

Buffy took a long drink. “Thanks.” Screwing the cap back on, she looked over at him. “So have you and Fred had ‘the talk’ yet?”

“What talk?”

“You know, the one where you talk about where your relationship is going and how much it means to you.” She gave him a smug smile. “That talk.”

“Ah, yes.”

Since it was said in the tone of voice that told Buffy that Wesley understood what she was referring to, but not necessarily that they’d done anything about it, she decided to push a bit. “Come on, Wes. Every time I see you two, you’re making with the googly eyes. What gives?”

Wesley picked up on the only part of that question he felt he could answer. “Googly eyes?”

“Spike’s phrase, not mine,” Buffy replied quickly. “And you’re avoiding the question. Is everything okay?”

She looked truly concerned, and so Wesley relented. “I—no, we haven’t. We’ve just been—exploring.” He sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“Because of what you don’t remember?” Buffy asked.

The Slayer’s powers of intuition astounded him at times, especially because Wesley knew just how obtuse she could be at others. “Precisely.”

“Look, Wes, far be it from me to tell you how to conduct a romance,” Buffy said, her face wry. “Because I tend to suck in that department. You and Fred are good together, though, and you care for each other. Why should it matter?”

It shouldn’t, perhaps, but it did. Wesley wasn’t sure what he would find behind the locked door of his mind. He didn’t know what opening it would reveal, but he was going to try it anyway. “How” was the question.

Wesley thought the answer might finally be within reach.

“I don’t know, but it does,” he replied quietly.

Wesley started slightly when he felt a hand on his arm. “We’ll find the answers,” Buffy said with quiet assurance. “We always have in the past, so there’s no reason not to now.”

Looking into her eyes, Wesley couldn’t help but believe her. “Of course.”

It was just a matter of time.

~~~~~

The month or so it had taken them to adjust wasn’t wasted. Just because they didn’t have to pay rent on the hotel didn’t mean they could afford to take things easy. Plus, there were the usual start-up expenses, things like ads in the telephone book, in the newspaper, and fliers to post around town. Thankfully, they still had business cards from the period of time when Angel had been in charge.

In some ways, it had been easier to keep the name. “Angel Investigations” had a nice ring to it, and no one could quite agree on a different moniker. They couldn’t even agree on a boss. Wesley didn’t want the job anymore, possibly for fear that another disaster would occur. Even though he had no memory of it, Cordelia had told him enough to make him wary of the position.

Fred and Buffy were both adamant about not being in charge; neither of them wanted the responsibility, although for different reasons. Cordelia felt about the same way, and Spike had just shaken his head when he was asked. “Still figurin’ things out for myself,” he’d said. “I don’t want to be the boss, but I’m not sure I want to take orders, either.”

The solution after that had been simple. The business had become a democracy, with the majority ruling. So far they hadn’t come up against anything that would test that policy, but it would happen eventually. When it did, the default head would most likely end up being Wesley, with everyone else reserving the right to say “I told you so.”

The best part, as Spike saw it, was that no one was overburdened with the problems that leadership always carried. Cordelia’s story about what had happened was a morality play, really. Wesley had been in charge, and he hadn’t been able to go to anyone else. It was no wonder that he’d felt the need to take matters into his own hands.

No one could say they felt the same responsibility any longer.

It was working out quite well, however. As many people as they had, the company could afford to run a number of cases at once. And, while they advertized themselves as specializing in the paranormal and unusual, they weren’t turning up their noses at routine surveilance jobs, or other typical P.I. work.

Their first case—although that had been more personal—had finally been solved. Knox’s body had been discovered. Apparently, he had committed suicide after he realized that he’d failed Illyria. Spike had been more than a little disappointed that he wouldn’t get the chance to torture him.

Spike, to his surprise, had discovered that he enjoyed it. Of course, he might have enjoyed just about anything with Buffy by his side.

Even with the constant shadow of Angel and his bartered soul hanging over their heads, it had been—fun. Sure, there had been ups and downs, but it turned out that they all largely enjoyed one another’s company.

Besides, after you start saving each other’s lives, little quirks and foibles seem pretty tolerable.

“Wow, Spike,” Dawn said, as they walked into the lobby of the Hyperion. “This place is amazing. You guys all live here?”

“Me an’ your sister do,” he admitted. “Cordelia, too. Fred and Wes have their own places, but they’re here most of the time.” Spike smiled. “Speakin’ of…”

“Hey, Spike,” Fred said cheerfully, appearing out of the back office. “You must be Dawn.” She beamed at the younger woman. “I’m Fred. How was the flight?”

Dawn shrugged. “Boring, but that’s to be expected. At least there wasn’t much turbulence.”

“Listen to the seasoned traveler,” Spike murmured, a smile quirking his lips. “You want to see the room you’ll be stayin’ in, Niblet? I’ll bring the bags up.”

“I can show her, Spike,” Fred replied. “Cordy’s back in the office. She wants to talk to you.”

Spike frowned. “Yeah, okay. Dawn?”

“I’m good,” Dawn said breezily. “I think Fred will give me way more dirt than you will, anyway.”

Spike shook his head as the pair headed up the stairs, then went to meet Cordelia in the office. “Cordelia? Fred said you wanted to talk to me.” He glanced at the books that lay scattered around her. “Still no luck?”

“Nothing,” she replied. Cordelia sighed. “I’m beginning to think there might not be a way for Angel to get out of this,” she confessed.

Spike lounged in the chair across from the desk. “Give it some time, luv. There’s a lot to be considered.”

Cordelia raised her eyebrows. “I thought you were the guy that liked to rush into things.”

“That was the old me,” Spike replied easily, although the mischief in his eyes demonstrated that that trait wasn’t so far in his past as to be completely buried.

“What about your soul?” Cordelia asked quietly. “I mean, if Angel went and completed the trials, could he keep his soul? Maybe make it permanent?”

Spike’s brow furrowed, and he leaned forward in his seat. “Dunno,” he admitted. “It depends on the relative power differential between that demon and Wolfram and Hart. If they’ve got as much as everybody seems to think, it could be risky.”

“But there’s a chance.”

“There’s always a chance,” Spike replied. “I think we’d better look at a few other solutions before we go runnin’ to Angel with that one, though. It’s all up to him, an’—”

Spike stopped. Even though tact wasn’t always his strong suit, he could wield it on occasion. “And Angel hasn’t shown any indication that he _wants_ to leave Wolfram and Hart.”

“Yeah,” Spike replied. “Of course, if we could hand him his son on a platter, make sure the kid’ll still be okay, he might do it.”

“You don’t believe that.”

It was said in a flat tone that brooked no argument, and the vampire winced. He’d kept his opinions on Angel largely to himself. The others were convinced that his grandsire needed saving, but Spike wasn’t so sure. “I don’t know.”

“You think he’s beyond help?”

“I think he might not want our help.” Spike sighed. “Angel has a pretty lofty idea of his own importance,” he said quietly. “He’s got an even higher opinion of his ability to make the right decision. Right now, he thinks he’s doin’ what’s best, an’ I don’t know how you’re goin’ to convince him otherwise.”

Cordelia couldn’t disagree, even though she wanted to. Spike—whatever his fashion sense, which Buffy was doing her poor best to remedy—was remarkably insightful. She knew Angel really well; at one point, she would have said she knew him best.

She wasn’t sure she knew the Angel that was heading up Wolfram &amp; Hart, however.

“What do you suggest I do, Spike? Give up?”

“Never.” The single word had her looking at him in surprise, and she found his blue eyes fixed on her in an unwavering stare. The intensity of it shocked her. “You never give up on the people you love.”

His fervent words drew a sigh of relief from Cordelia. “Thank you, Spike,” she said softly, recognizing the offer of support he’d tacitly given.

Spike shrugged, uncomfortable with her gratitude. “Yeah, whatever. I’d better go see what Dawn’s gotten up to. Gotta take her bags upstairs too.”

“Spike.” The unspoken question stopped him at the door, even though he didn’t turn around. “I think I understand what Buffy sees in you.”

He tossed her a grin over his shoulder. “Told you I’m not just a pretty face, Cheerleader.”

Cordelia laughed a little and shook her head. Spike never could stay serious for long. She ran a finger over the framed picture on the desk. All the photos of Conner had disappeared, but there was one of all of them together she’d found among her things—Angel, Wesley, Gunn, Fred, and her. Cordy didn’t remember who had taken the photo, but it hardly mattered.

What mattered was making sure that Angel was out of harm’s way. Even if they were never a team again, Cordy just wanted to see him safe.

She still loved him.


	15. Storms

**“…Sleep with one ear close to the ground/and wake up screaming/When we lay our cold weapons down/we’ll wake up dreaming/Obsessions with self-preservation/faded when I threw my fear away/It’s not a thing you can imagine/You either lose your fear/or spend your life with one foot in the grave/Is God the last romantic?...” ~Over the Rhine, “Spark”**

Wesley and Spike were going over the week’s schedule, determining who would be taking care of what. Normally, the women were there to offer their opinions, but they had all gone out on a shopping expedition with Dawn. The girl was leaving in a couple of days, and Buffy had wanted to make the most of their time together.

“Hello?”

The tentative call had them both looking up. “Can we help you?” Wesley asked, straightening.

The young man standing in the lobby was looking at them nervously. “I hope so.”

Spike frowned. There was something about the boy that was off. He could smell the grief and fear on him. “Why don’t you have a seat, lad?” he suggested, waving a hand towards the empty office.

The boy moved forward as though in a daze. “I, uh, something happened. Something bad, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Sit.” Wesley echoed Spike’s order. “Can we get you something to drink? Or eat?”

He shook his head. “No, it’s—” Connor glanced from one to the other. “You believe in demons, right? And vampires and stuff?”

Spike and Wesley exchanged a look. “I am a vampire,” Spike said, completely deadpan.

“That’s good.” He looked completely lost. “Because I think there are demons after me.”

Connor was stumbling over his words as he introduced himself and explained what had happened. His parents had taken him to Wolfram and Hart, ostensibly to set up a trust fund, but really because he’d been run over by a van and had emerged completely unscathed. The CEO had refused to help them, and they had left to go to dinner when they were attacked in the parking lot of the restaurant.

Both Spike and Wesley suddenly wished that they weren’t the only ones in the hotel, since the poor kid really looked like he could use some mothering. “They—they just came out of nowhere. I don’t even know what they were. They tried—” He held out one arm in explanation, and they could see a nasty gash running down the underside of his forearm.

“What happened next?” Wesley asked quietly, passing him a glass of water.

Connor shook his head. “I tried—there were too many of them, and my folks…”

Spike didn’t like where this was going. “Where are your parents now?”

The boy shook his head. “They’re both in the hospital, in the ICU. The doctors said—they don’t know if—” Connor took a deep breath and looked up at them. “I think it has something to do with me. I think something is after me.”

Wesley kept his voice as gentle as possible. “That may be so, but what happened was not your fault. I promise we’ll do everything we can to discover who is behind this.”

“You got a place to stay?” Spike asked

Connor shrugged. “I’ve been staying mostly at the hospital. I’m supposed to be going back to school soon, but my—my professors have been really understanding about—everything.”

Wesley nodded, saying firmly, “We’ll be making your case our top priority. If you need a place to stay, you’re more than welcome to stay here. We’ve plenty of room.”

“I can’t pay you,” Connor said. “Not until—I mean, my parents—”

“Forget it,” Spike said gruffly. He couldn’t explain to the boy that he was family. It wasn’t like Connor would believe him anyway. “This is what we do. You’d be amazed how rarely we do get paid for it.”

Connor stood. “I should get back to the hospital. I need to—”

“Of course you do,” Wesley replied, getting to his feet. “We’ll begin work on your problem. If you would like to come back here tonight…” He trailed off, leaving the invitation open.

Connor nodded slowly. “Yeah, sure. And, thanks.”

They watched him go. “If I hadn’t known, I’m not sure I would have seen the resemblance,” Wesley murmured.

Spike shook his head. “I could tell. He looks a bit like his mum too.”

Wesley had forgotten that Spike had known Darla as well. “What do you think we should do?”

“I think we need to figure out how to give the kid his memories back,” Spike replied quietly. “From what Cordelia told us, he was as good a fighter as Angel, if not better. If he’d known how to defend himself, those demons never would have gotten past his guard.”

Wesley wasn’t sure he liked that solution much. “What about his parents? If we give Connor back his memories, but not his parents—”

“Kid’s in college now, isn’t he?” Spike asked. “I don’t see how it’ll matter. He has his own life. We wouldn’t have to break the spell or whatever with anyone but him.”

“No.” Wesley was surprisingly adamant. “If we break the spell, it’s going to be all or nothing, Spike. I want—”

“The memories are yours,” Spike agreed. “You got a right to them.”

“I think I know of something that will break the spell, but—”

“Until then the kid is going to need protection,” Spike finished for him. “And I’m the muscle.”

“You’re more than muscle, Spike,” Wesley replied with a wry smile. “But I think you and Buffy will be needed.”

~~~~~

Buffy felt Cordelia tense up next to her as the young man hurried past them. Dawn was watching him go by as well, but the Slayer was fairly certain that their reasons were completely different.

“What is it?” Buffy asked, as they walked up to the front doors of the hotel.

Cordelia looked over her shoulder at the boy’s rapidly diminishing form. “That was Connor.”

“Who’s Connor?” Dawn asked, definitely intrigued by what she’d seen.

“Angel’s son,” Cordelia mumbled, pushing through the front doors. “Wes! Was that—”

“That was Connor, and he came to request our help,” Wesley said, answering her unfinished question. “It appears that there may be something after him.”

“We should call Angel.” Cordelia was reaching for the phone when Wesley’s hand came down gently over hers.

“Cordy, Angel already knows. He sent Connor away.” Still holding her hand, he tugged her towards the office. “Why don’t you let me explain?”

Knowing when a discussion needed to be private, the others stayed in the lobby. “Connor was here?” Fred asked. Like Wesley, she wasn’t nearly as upset about Connor’s appearance, since she had no memory of him. Buffy and Dawn were also rather detached from the situation.

Spike shrugged. “Seems the kid and his parents were attacked the other night. Angel wouldn’t help them, so he thought we might.”

“Angel wouldn’t help his own son?” Fred echoed. “But that was the whole reason he’s at Wolfram and Hart!”

“He might have thought it was safer for him not to be involved,” Buffy pointed out. “If Angel was willing to give Connor up for his own good, he might have thought it would be better if he stayed gone.”

Dawn was still confused. “Wait. Angel has a kid? Why didn’t I know about this?”

Spike shrugged. “We just found out a little while ago ourselves, Bit, and it didn’t seem important enough to mention.”

“Until now,” Fred inserted wryly. “What are we going to do?”

“The Slayer and I are going to make sure no more nasties get to Connor, while the Watcher cooks up something to give all of you your memories back, including Connor.” Spike shook his head, pitying the boy. “If he remembers how to fight, he can protect himself.”

Fred got an alarmed expression on her face. “But won’t that be bad? I thought Cordy said Connor went a little crazy?”

“Spike and I should be able to control him between the two of us,” Buffy replied, sighing. She could tell by the expression on Spike’s face that the idea of inflicting more damage on Connor wasn’t at all appealing. It seemed like this was their only course of action, though. As Spike had been known to point out, magic had consequences. It looked like they were running into one of them.

Dawn was still frowning. “Okay, I’m still lost. Angel has a kid, but he doesn’t remember who he is? What’s wrong with this picture?”

~~~~~

“No, Wesley, this is insane.”

“We’ve talked about this,” Wesley replied. “You remember everything, Cordelia. The rest of us do not, and I—I need to know.”

Cordelia didn’t bother trying to argue with him. She’d seen Wesley like this on a few occasions in the past, and when he got stubborn, he would not be budged. “What’s the plan?”

“There’s a spell,” Wesley said slowly. “It can disrupt the memory spell that was placed on all of us, including Connor.”

Cordelia shook her head. “Are you going to tell Connor about this before you use him as your guinea pig?”

“I don’t know that I can do the spell,” Wesley admitted. “It requires some power, as the warlock who performed the memory spell is extremely powerful. As he was bound by contract to complete the spell, I doubt he would willingly undo it.”

“Not to mention the fact that a powerful warlock working for Wolfram and Hart is probably on the side of evil,” Cordelia said wryly. “Then how are you going to get it done?”

Wesley sighed. “That’s where Buffy comes in.”

“You’re going to ask for Willow’s help.”

“I think it’s necessary.” Wesley grimaced. “Although she may not agree.”

“Who may not agree?” Buffy asked from the doorway.

Wesley glanced up at her. “Willow. We need her help when we remove the spell.”

Buffy shrugged. “Willow’s usually up for beating up on nasty old magicians. I wouldn’t worry about it too much. I’ll call her tonight.”

“Are you heading out?” Wesley asked, catching the look of anticipation on her face.

“Spike and I are going to go keep an eye on Connor,” she replied. “Unless you’ve got something else you’d rather us be doing.”

Wesley shook his head. “Connor is our top priority at the moment, so no.”

“We’ll see you later, then.”

Buffy turned and left the office, and Wesley met Cordelia’s eyes. “Are you in?”

“We’re a team, Wes. Of course I’m in.” Cordy shook her head. “It never gets any easier, does it?” It was a rhetorical question, and so Wesley maintained his silence. “You’re right, though. This was the deal that Angel made that got him into Wolfram and Hart in the first place. If we can help Connor, maybe Angel will be more willing to leave.”

Wesley didn’t have the heart to tell her that he thought that Angel was beyond their help at this point. According to Cordelia’s memories, he owed Connor for what he’d done, for the mistakes he’d made. Perhaps Wesley owed Angel as well, but there hadn’t been a chance to repay the vampire as of yet.

Maybe there never would be, but Wesley wouldn’t allow that to stop him from trying.

~~~~~

“This isn’t familiar,” Buffy muttered. They had taken one of the cars with the necromanced windows to where Connor’s parents were receiving treatment. Neither of them knew Connor well, and so they were both unsure of whether or not they ought to approach him as he stood vigil.

Spike gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. They were still discussing whether or not to go in. “I imagine being here brings back bad memories.”

“You can say that again.” Buffy glanced over his shoulder, looking for her sister. “Why isn’t Dawn back yet?”

“Probably because we both gave her enough money to clear out the vending machines,” Spike replied with a smirk. “It’ll be fine.”

Dawn popped up behind them. “I think you guys should let me handle this.”

They hadn’t planned on bringing the younger Summers with them, but since Dawn was going to be leaving soon, she hadn’t wanted to miss out on the excitement.

“And just how are you planning on ‘handling this,’ Bit?” Spike asked with some amusement.

Dawn just batted her eyelashes at him. “Watch a master at work.” She strolled up to where Connor was sitting slumped in one of the plastic chairs in the ICU waiting room and plopped herself next to him.

Connor spared her a glance, but no more.

“I’m Dawn Summers.”

That piece of cheek got her a startled glance. Connor was surprised enough to return the favor. “Connor Reilly. Do I know you?”

“My sister works at the detective agency you were at today. She’s around here somewhere with Spike, trying to protect you.” Dawn gave him a smile, suitably subdued in response to the circumstances.

“What are you doing here?”

Since he sounded more bewildered than antagonistic, Dawn answered him honestly. “I’m supposed to go back to school soon, and I wanted to spend as much time with them as possible.”

“You’re in college?” Connor seemed to perk up a little at that.

Dawn made a face. “Not yet. Next year is my last year of high school.”

“Oh.” Connor thought she looked older. “Do you know about—” He motioned the the doors of the ICU.

Dawn nodded. “Yeah. I’m really sorry. My mom was in the hospital for a while, and it really wasn’t much fun.”

“No, not really,” Connor agreed.

Dawn touched his arm winningly. “So are you coming back to the hotel with us tonight? It really is a pretty cool place.”

“Maybe. I guess.” He was still trying to appear nonchalant, but it was because he wanted to obscure his nervousness around Dawn. Connor still wasn’t quite as smooth with the ladies as he might wish. “Are you staying there?”

Buffy, watching from just around the doorway, grinned when she heard his question. “Hook, line, and sinker,” she murmured.

Spike was shaking his head. “That little heartbreaker. I guess our night just got a whole lot easier.”

“Don’t say things like that!” Buffy hissed in alarm. “You’ll jinx us.”

Spike grinned, raising an eyebrow. “I mean our sleeping arrangements. Have you ever tried to sleep on these chairs? Damn near impossible.”

“I know someone else who’s impossible,” Buffy snorted in reply, but she didn’t try to remove his arm when Spike slipped it over her shoulders. “That poor kid.”

“No kidding. Hard to believe I’m related to him, yeah?”

Buffy started to shake her head until she realized that Spike was right. They were related in a very odd sort of way. “I know,” she replied. “He’s a lot prettier than you are.” She walked out into the waiting room, leaving Spike behind.

Spike was already planning how he was going to get even with her for that comment.


	16. The Persistence of Memory

**“My memory will not fail me now./Mmm, firefly in the night sky/only lights on the rise/and I need you so, firefly./One satellite with a lazy eye/caught my by surprise/with an ache in my belly/and a taste in my mouth for fire…After the killing frost/where do you go/Firefly?/ My memory will not fail me now/and the rest is history.” ~Over the Rhine, “Firefly”**

Fred stood in the doorway and watched Wesley as he checked one book against another, his slim fingers sliding across the pages. He quickly made a notation in his notebook, and then went back to the text again.

It was such a familiar sight. Fred wondered how on earth he could look so sexy researching when she’d witnessed the exact same thing before without the accompanying fire in her belly.

They had made some headway in their relationship over the last few weeks. There had been long, slow kisses and casual hand-holding. Arms around shoulders and wandering hands as they relaxed after a case. There was an intimacy there that had not been present before, and for that, Fred was grateful.

Her parents had called just last week, letting her know that they would soon be stopping through on their way to Hawaii. She’d already told them about leaving the law firm, and they had simply said, “Well, you know what you need, Fred. Just let us know if we can help out at all.”

During the course of this parental phone call, her mom had asked, “So have you met any nice young men yet?”

Fred’s automatic, “Mom!” and her father’s remonstrance to let her be, couldn’t drown out Trish’s, “Well, a mother likes to know these things. Fancy jobs don’t replace a warm body in your bed.”

Roger’s voice cut over hers. He was obviously ill-prepared to think about his baby in bed with anyone other than Mr. Fiegenbaum. “Now, Trish, Fred’s smart enough to run her own life.”

“I’m dating someone,” Fred had blurted out, wanting to tell them. In fact, she’d had the crazy urge to call her parents immediately after she and Wesley had started to get serious, knowing that they would see it as good news.

“Who?” Roger asked, a thread of suspicion in his tone.

“Wesley.”

The quiet admission was met with vigorous approval from both parents, with a couple comments from Trish on the attractiveness of her choice. “And that accent,” she’d added admiringly.

Remembering the conversation, Fred had to stifle a giggle. She wondered what Wesley would say when he discovered that her parents knew they were dating, and that they were planning on stopping through soon. She knew that Wes liked her folks, and vice versa, so she didn’t think there would be any problems.

That was just it, though. There weren’t any problems, but there seemed to be a definite sense of space that Wesley maintained between them. Fred was half-afraid that Wesley would view her parents’ knowledge as overstepping some invisible boundary. Maybe if she knew why he was keeping her at arm’s length, Fred could reassure him.

Because there was one thing she knew for sure—she wanted Wesley. She wanted this relationship to have a fighting chance.

Fred would fight to keep him.

She stepped through the office door, maintaining her silence until Wesley looked up. “Connor just arrived. Spike and Buffy are with him.”

“How is he?”

“I think he’s okay,” Fred replied. “He’s had a pretty big shock, and the doctors still can’t say if his parents will recover. Cordelia and Dawn are with him.”

The same odd emotion flitted through Wesley’s eyes that always appeared when parents were mentioned. “Is she planning on saying anything?”

Fred took a seat across from him. “No. She’s going to wait for you to do the spell.”

“Good.”

When he appeared to be going straight back to his research, Fred interrupted him. “Wes?”

“Yes?”

“Is anything wrong?”

Wesley leaned back in his chair so he could view her better. “What are you talking about?”

She sighed. This was going to be more difficult than she’d anticipated. “Is anything wrong? With us. You just seem…” Fred trailed off, unsure of how to put Wesley’s apparent distance into words without causing offense.

“No,” he was quick to say, then seemed to think better of it. After his conversation with Buffy the previous week, Wesley had thought this might come up. “I need my memories, Fred. I need to know—”

“If it changes anything?” she supplied. Fred’s face took on a look of determination that he rarely saw outside of her work. It was fixed on him. “It won’t.”

“It might,” he argued. “You don’t know how you’ll feel about me afterwards. What if this—between us—is a product of this memory erasure Angel performed?”

Fred stared at him. “How long have you loved me?”

“Fred—”

“How long?”

“For years,” Wesley admitted quietly, knowing that she wasn’t going to let him off the hook.

Fred nodded, satisfied. “Then you’re not worried about your feelings changing. You’re worried about mine.”

Wesley hesitated, then had to nod in admission.

She stood and walked around the desk, bending to kiss him. “I like you,” Fred said bluntly. “More than like. And I know what you did, and I know who you are, so I don’t see how actually having the memories are going to change anything.”

“You don’t know that they won’t,” he argued.

“And you don’t know that they will.” Fred sighed. “Trust me, Wes. I’m not going anywhere.”

They might have continued the discussion, but there was a loud shriek from upstairs, and then they both heard Spike laughing. Hurrying out of the office to find out what the commotion was, they saw a blur that was Spike heading for the courtyard.

“Spike!” Buffy stood on the landing, wrapped only in a towel, obviously having been unceremoniously routed from the shower. “Spike! Get back here right now!”

Fred could still hear the vampire’s laughter. “Is everything okay, Buffy?”

“That—that bastard poured a whole bucket of ice on me!” she spat out. “While I was in the shower!” She raised her voice so that it was certain to carry outside. “When I get my hands on you, you’re going to beg for mercy!”

Then, as though she had just realized her state of undress, she let out a rather undignified squeak and dashed back up the stairs. Wesley, ever the gentleman, averted his eyes. The towel _was_ rather short.

Cordelia, Connor, and Dawn came down a few moments later. “What was that all about?”

Wesley started to snicker. “It seems Spike dumped a bucket of ice on Buffy while she was showering.”

Dawn grinned. “Did he? That’s awesome!” She grinned at Spike who came swaggering through the doors of the courtyard now that Buffy was gone.

“Had to pay her back for that remark she made earlier,” he said.

Cordy frowned. “What remark?”

“That’s between me an’ the Slayer,” Spike replied, sprawling across the lobby couch.

Dawn sniggered. “She’s going to make you pay for that, you know.”

Spike shrugged. “It was worth it. Did you see the look on her face?” He grinned broadly. “Bloody priceless.”

Wesley shook his head, heading back to his research. He could just hear Connor ask, “Is it like this all the time here?”

~~~~~

Spike entered the room he shared with Buffy warily. At this point, he was fairly certain she wouldn’t have a stake waiting for him, but it was hard to say. She’d been pretty pissed off about that shower stunt.

Still, he wouldn’t have done it any differently. Although Spike might not be evil any longer, he had a mischievous streak a mile wide, and Angel wasn’t around to torment these days.

He was halfway into the room when Buffy pounced on him, sending them both flying onto the bed. She had his hands pinned above his head in a flash, her eyes glaring daggers at him. “What was that for?”

“You said Angel’s kid was prettier,” Spike said, his face not losing the smug smile he’d been wearing since she’d sent him running down the stairs.

Buffy tried to maintain the angry-face, but it was difficult. Spike was just so damn sexy when he was smug, and if it had been anyone else, she’d have been laughing too.

It wasn’t anyone else, though, and there was no way she could let him get away with pulling a prank like that. Buffy would make him sleep in another room, but that would mean Spike wasn’t in her bed, and she didn’t like that idea at all. “What am I going to do with you?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Dunno. You could let me go.” His eyes darkened. “I could make it worth your while. Could make you scream.”

It was tempting, but knowing that Spike would get just as much pleasure as she would didn’t make it much of a punishment. Buffy smiled evilly. “No,” she said simply. “I think I’m going to make _you_ scream.”

~~~~~

“So how are you?” Dawn asked, poking her head into the room Connor was using. Spike and Buffy had convinced him to come back to the hotel, telling him that he’d be safer there, and if something was after him, he would be leading it away from his parents.

Connor shrugged. “Okay, I guess.” There was a roar, and his head shot up. “What was that?”

Dawn came inside the room and shut the door behind her. “Trust me. You don’t want to know.”

“Do they ever stop?” Connor asked, blinking.

“I don’t know. I haven’t been here that much since they got back together. My guess would be no, though.” She sat next to him on the bed. “I’m really sorry about your parents.”

He shrugged. “They’re still hanging in there. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Dawn noticed that he sounded less than convinced. “I’m sure.”

They stared at each other for a moment before another muffled shout penetrated the door. “Do you want to go downstairs?” Connor asked.

“That sounds like a really good idea.”

~~~~~

“Buffy said that Willow would be here in the next couple of days,” Wesley informed Cordelia and Fred. “She should be able to perform the spell shortly thereafter. Meanwhile, we just need to be sure that nothing happens to Connor.”

“Shouldn’t we tell Angel about this?” Fred asked. “Or Lorne or Gunn? It might be unsettling for them just to, you know, suddenly remember everything.”

Cordy shook her head. “We aren’t telling Angel. He would probably try to stop us, and that’s no good. Lorne and Gunn should probably know, though.” She looked at Wesley. “What about trying to find out what was after Connor in the first place?”

“I’m looking into it.” He sighed. “It’s most likely someone tied to Connor’s past, and it’s difficult to research that given the spell.”

“So we wait until the spell is done, and then we figure out what’s after Connor,” Fred observed, looking out the office window where Dawn and Connor were hanging out. “At least he has some company.”

“Indeed,” Wesley murmured. “It’s probably best to keep him out of the way as much as possible. I do not want to alarm him.”

“Any more than he already is?” Cordy commented, a definite note of sarcasm in her voice.

There was a muffled shriek, and Wesley frowned. “What on earth is going on?” He watched as Fred and Cordelia looked at each other and then at him in perfect synchronization. “Oh. I see.” The tips of his ears turned pink. “You know, I’m rather hungry. Perhaps we should go out and get something to eat.”

“I could go for that,” Cordelia replied. “Maybe we’d better take the impressionable kids with us.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” Fred said, tucking her arm through Wesley’s.

When twin cries of ecstasy filtered downstairs, all of them hurried out the doors.

~~~~~

Buffy wasn’t sure she’d ever had so much fun in her entire life. It definitely ranked right up there, at least.

In the past, sex had often been about domination, about losing herself in him, about forgetting. It had been focused on the pleasure that he could give her, and what she could take. On rare occasions, there had been an undercurrent of tenderness, but their coupling was more often brutal.

Recently, that had all changed. They could be tender with each other now—and other nights they could be rough, although Buffy didn’t think they’d ever be cruel to one another again. She couldn’t recall ever laughing this much during their love-making, however.

She was sprawled on top of him, Spike’s hand rubbing circles on her back absently. They were both sticky, and Buffy was pleasantly out of breath. Spike was still breathing, even though he didn’t need to. It had been fun—to torture each other, to see how close she could bring him to the edge without sending him over.

Buffy had a feeling that she’d surprised Spike just a bit with her creativity.

“I don’t remember the last time I laughed that hard,” she said, unwilling to move.

Spike smiled. “Yeah, it was—nice.”

“It was a whole lot better than nice!” Buffy said defensively, raising her head so that she could meet his eyes.

His expression was a trifle awed and not a little adoring. “Couldn’t think of a better word. My brain’s not workin’ real well at the moment.”

She put her head back down. “It’s too bad we couldn’t have figured this out earlier, you know?”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean I wish I had known that it could be like this. I wish I had been brave enough to see the possibility.”

There was a long pause, and Spike’s hand tightened on her shoulder, nudging her off of him and onto her side so he could meet her eyes. “I don’t.”

Buffy’s eyes widened. “You liked—”

“Not what I meant,” he said very calmly. “’m just sayin’ I like where we are right now.”

She understood what he was saying. If things had been different, it might have been better. Then again, it might have been worse, and Spike liked their current situation. For that matter, so did she. “Yeah.”

They lay quietly, simply enjoying being in the presence of the other. There was no hurry to move, no troubles to face that wouldn’t wait until morning. Spike had nearly drifted off to sleep when he heard Buffy say, “You’ve spoiled me.”

“What now?” he asked, rousing himself with some difficulty.

“You’ve spoiled me,” she repeated. “You’re the only guy I want to be with, Spike. There’s nobody else like you.”

Spike grinned at her, and he looked like a child for a moment. “You’re only sayin’ that because no one else would have the stones to drop a bucket of ice on you while you’re in the shower.”

Buffy smiled back. “Yeah. That too.”

And they both slept like they hadn’t a care in the world.


	17. What We'll Find

**“I was born to laugh/I learned to laugh through my tears/I was born to love/I’m gonna learn to love without fear/Pour me a glass of wine/Talk deep into the night/Who knows what we’ll find?...We’ve seen the landfill rainbow/We’ve seen the junkyard of love/Baby, that’s no place for you and me.” ~Over the Rhine, “Born”**

“It’s so not fair,” Dawn pouted, laying on Buffy’s bed, watching her sister finish getting dressed. It felt like old times—to be in her bedroom, gossiping over little things, just being together.

She’d missed this since Buffy had left Rome, and although it would only be a few weeks until Dawn came to join her in L.A. permanently, it still seemed like a long time. Especially since she was nearly missing Willow’s visit entirely.

Buffy sighed, unable to disagree with her younger sister. “I know, Dawn, but we both know that it’s for the best.”

“Okay, but you have to promise that we’re going to get together, all of us, after I’m done with school.” Dawn used her best puppy-dog eyes. “You guys could even come pick me up in Rome.”

Buffy thought about that for a minute. Exploring Rome with Spike for a few weeks could be fun. Besides, she wasn’t entirely certain that he would want to stay if Angel ended up leaving Wolfram &amp; Hart. Working with Angel full time was bound to end with one of them killing the other.

“We’ll see,” she finally said. “I’ll discuss it with Willow while she’s here, but you’re going to have to work on Xander. It doesn’t look like he’s leaving Africa any time soon.”

“He still misses Anya,” Dawn said wisely. “I don’t blame him.”

Buffy’s expression turned sad. “No, I don’t either,” she agreed softly, remembering her own months of mourning. Spike had come back, but there wouldn’t be a similar miracle for Anya.

Dawn sighed. “I’m just glad that you and Spike are okay,” she finally said. “It’s only a few more weeks, I guess.”

“Not that long at all.” Buffy turned to look at her sister. “Do you want to come with me to pick Willow up?”

Dawn rolled her eyes. “Well, duh. Is Spike coming?”

“Spike is with Connor, trying to explain how everything is going to get cleared up in a few hours.”

Dawn snorted. “Good luck with that.”

“What are you talking about?” Buffy asked, surprised at Dawn’s skeptical tone.

“Please, like any of this is going to make sense to him,” she said. “I mean, he’s basically going to find out that he’s some sort of psycho-kid with superpowers. That’s real comforting.”

~~~~~

“So you’re getting a witch to do this spell, which will make me safe again?” Connor asked, not sounding particularly sure about that plan. Spike couldn’t exactly blame him; it sounded pretty far-fetched.

Wesley sighed. “No, but it will help you protect yourself.”

“By giving me more super-powers?” Connor asked unhappily. “Isn’t that what got me into this in the first place?”

“No. The spell will merely allow you to defend yourself using the skills that you already have,” Wesley replied. “I believe I know who is responsible for the attack on you and your parents. We need someone who is skilled in magic in order to confront him, however.”

“What about you?” Connor asked. “I thought—”

“Someone more powerful than I am,” Wesley added belatedly.

Connor shook his head. “So who is this guy and what would he want from me?”

“His name is Vail, and he’s a powerful magician.” Wesley didn’t bother telling the boy that Vail was the one who had performed the memory spell they were about to break. “I don’t know what he wants from you.” That much, at least, was true.

“So this lady is going to come and do a spell that will help me protect myself?” Connor asked, sounding incredulous. “What about my parents?”

“I think this thing is after you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Connor asked, leaping to his feet with the gawky grace of an adolescent. “I have to stay away from them for forever? If I never see them again, they’ll be safe?”

“No,” Spike answered quietly. “It’s actually a bit more complicated than that.”

Connor laughed. “I guess the next thing you’re going to tell me is that they really aren’t my parents.” At the expressions on the men’s faces, he stopped laughing. “You are. You—”

“It’s true, Connor.” Cordelia’s voice came from the doorway where she’d appeared.

Connor whirled to face her. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I know who you are,” Cordelia replied. “When Willow does the spell, you’ll understand.”

“But until then, I’m going to have to sit around like a good boy?” he demanded. “Look, I appreciate you all protecting me for the last few days, and letting me stay here, but I should get going.”

Spike blocked his way, although his voice was gentle. “We can’t let you leave, lad. There’s someone after you. We think we know a little bit about why, but if he gets to you before Willow can do this spell, you could easily end up dead. If you don’t believe anything else, believe this: none of us want to see you hurt.”

The raw sincerity in Spike’s eyes convinced Connor the vampire was telling the truth. Still, this whole thing was getting out of hand. He just wanted to protect his parents, go back to college, forget about all of this.

He was in over his head.

Connor was a little surprised when Cordelia reached out and cupped his cheek. It was a maternal gesture that suggested a close relationship—that they didn’t have. She was practically a stranger, and she was looking at him the way his mom did sometimes when she was worried about him. “Connor, I promise that we’re going to help you and your parents, whatever that takes.”

“How long?” he asked.

“Give us 24 hours,” Wesley replied. “Not much longer.”

Connor took a deep breath. His parents weren’t going anywhere any time soon. It would be at least a week before either of them were ready to leave the hospital. He had a day. After that, he’d start looking for some answers on his own.

Even though he had no idea where to start.

~~~~~

“Willow!” Buffy embraced her friend, laughing. “You look great!”

“So do you,” Willow replied, meaning every word. “Spike definitely agrees with you.”

The Slayer blushed furiously. “He does,” she replied, a silly grin forming on her face. “Where’s Kennedy? I would have thought she’d be with you.”

Willow shrugged. “We broke up.”

“I’m sorry?” Buffy said, Willow’s casual tone making her unsure of whether or not condolences needed to be offered.

“It was nice while it lasted,” Willow replied. “We had some good times, and we ended things amicably. It’s fine.”

“Good,” Buffy replied. “Dawn’s around here somewhere. She wanted junk food. Again.”

“Same old Dawnie,” Willow said fondly, waving as the girl made her way through the crowd. They hugged, chattering away quickly, filling each other in. “So what’s up with this spell?” the witch finally asked, once they were about halfway to the hotel.

“It’s to help Angel’s son,” Buffy replied. “He did this big memory-wipe spell, and we want to undo it.”

“Who, Angel’s son?”

“No, Angel,” Buffy replied. “Actually, it was a magician who did the spell, but Angel requested it. Now, something is after Connor—Angel’s son—and we need everyone to have their memories back.”

Willow frowned. “I’m willing to do the spell, Buffy, but this is big mojo, and it could have really nasty consequences. If the memories were gone, they were probably gone for a reason.”

“There was a good reason,” Buffy admitted. “Connor was going a little crazy. We’re hoping that Spike and I can control him if he goes off the deep end again.”

Willow whistled under her breath. “That’s pretty serious stuff, Buffy.”

“I know, Wills. You know I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t think it was the best thing.”

“I do,” Willow replied. “Okay, I want to talk with Connor and Wesley both. If everything goes well, we can get this done tonight.”

“Maybe I should stay with him,” Dawn suggested from the back seat. She’d been quiet for most of the discussion, listening raptly.

Buffy frowned. “Dawn, I don’t think—”

“I know what it’s like to find out your whole life is a fake, Buffy.”

That much was true, Buffy had to admit. “Okay, but I want you to be careful,” she insisted. “Connor’s a really nice guy right now, but from Cordelia’s stories, that wasn’t always the case.”

“Like I haven’t dealt with psycho superheroes before,” was Dawn’s rather biting response.

~~~~~

Connor wasn’t sure what he’d expected a witch to look like, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t like the perky redhead that came in with Buffy. She hugged everyone and then gave him a quick smile. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s get to work. I’m thinking that time might be of the essence here.”

No one tried to insist that he leave, so Connor listened to the ensuing discussion, growing increasingly more bewildered. He knew that Angel was the CEO of Wolfram &amp; Hart, but he didn’t understand why he played such a large role in this situation. They kept talking about calling people named Gunn and Lorne, but he wasn’t sure who they were at all.

Fred left at some point to make a couple of phone calls, and Connor found himself tuning out the discussion. “Connor?”

Willow was looking at him. “Oh, sorry. Yeah?”

“Is this what you want?” she asked.

Connor looked around the room. They were all looking at him as though they really cared. In fact, that’s how they’d been treating him for the last few days—as if they really were concerned for his welfare. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t understand any of this.” His eyes locked on Cordelia. “Is this the right thing?”

“I think it is, Connor,” Cordelia said softly.

Wesley was nodding as well, and Dawn was giving him a sympathetic look that suggested she knew what he was going through, although he didn’t see how she could.

“The truth might hurt, but once you know you can deal,” Buffy said. “It’s the not knowing that’s gotten you in trouble up to now.”

Connor frowned. “If this happens—if you do this spell—I’ll be able to protect my parents?”

“I believe so,” Wesley said firmly.

“Then let’s do it,” he said, with no hesitation. “That’s all I really want.”

~~~~~

Buffy leaned back against Spike, who was rubbing his hands up and down her arms in a comforting gesture. They were watching Willow get ready to do the spell. Lorne and Gunn were on their way over. It had seemed best if they were there for it, although it would work at a distance.

“I hate this,” Buffy muttered.

Spike pulled her just a little bit closer. “Hate what?”

“Waiting,” she replied. “I hate the waiting. Where are Wes and Fred?”

“Talking.” Spike grimaced. “I think Wesley’s a little nervous about how this spell is going to affect Fred’s feelings for him.”

Buffy shook her head. “Wes is a worrywart,” she said affectionately. “Fred’s in love with him.”

“He’s chalkin’ that up to this spell,” Spike said. “I don’t blame him. There are days when I’m pretty damn sure this is all a fluke.”

“There is no fluke,” Buffy said fiercely. “We fought long and hard to get here.”

They both fell silent, watching as Fred came out of the office, followed by Wesley. An awkwardness seemed to hang between them, and both the Slayer and Spike winced in sympathy, knowing how they felt.

Lorne and Gunn came through the hotel doors moments later, looking a little nervous. “So when is this party getting started?” Gunn asked.

“Fifteen minutes,” Willow said, sounding fairly cheeful. After all, she was just undoing what had been done. In a situation like this, it took a whole lot less power to put things back the way they were than it did to create a new reality.

Lorne sighed. “Well, I for one will feel much better knowing what I’ve been missing.”

Connor was staring nervously at the spell preparations. “Does this stuff actually work?”

“Yep,” Willow replied. “I haven’t had a spell go wonky in ages.” She looked up quickly, seeing the alarm that her reply brought to Connor’s face. “I have a really good success rate with spells. Just ask Buffy.”

Connor shot the Slayer a look. “She’s right,” Buffy replied. “Willow is the best.”

“It’s all about control,” Willow assured him. “And I’ve been working really hard on that the last few years.”

An uneasy silence hung over the hotel lobby after that as they all watched as the witch finished her preparations. “All done,” Willow finally said. “Connor, I need you to sit here,” she explained, pointing to the center of the design she’d chalked on the floor. “Don’t smudge the lines, please.” She waited until he was sitting cross-legged. “Okay. Any big flashing lights go off, don’t be alarmed.”

With that less-than-reassuring statement, Willow began to chant. Connor kept on looking nervous, and Dawn came over to stand next to Buffy and Spike. “So do you think he’ll be okay after this?”

“I have no idea, Dawn,” Buffy said. “There’s definitely going to be some adjustment.”

“He’ll be fine.” Spike was watching him.

Dawn looked over. “How do you know?”

“Because he won’t be alone. That makes all the difference in the world,” Spike replied.

The chanting seemed to go on forever as all eyes remained on Willow and Connor. As promised, there was suddenly a flash of light as the last words of a dead language were shouted out in ringing tones.

Lorne had been right. The acoustics in the lobby were great.

Nothing happened for the longest time. Silence reigned. Suddenly, Wesley turned and stalked towards the office, slamming the door behind him. Fred stared after him for a moment before turning and walking out the front door.

Gunn and Lorne looked at each other. “Oh, man,” Gunn finally said.

“Yeah,” Lorne agreed softly. “I can see why Angel would want to wipe those memories.”

Connor still hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken. Finally, he rose, a grace in his movements that hadn’t been there before. Spike and Buffy both recognized the difference. He was moving like a dancer—like a fighter.

Like he’d been born to it.

Connor looked Willow in the eye. “Thank you.”

Willow watched him carefully, finally seeing whatever it was that she had been looking for. “You’re welcome.”

The boy looked at Cordelia. “We should probably talk.”

“Yeah,” Cordy agreed softly. “That’s probably a good idea.”

The rest of the group watched as they climbed the stairs. “Why is it that I suddenly have a really bad feeling about this?” Dawn asked no one in particular.

“It’s probably the same feeling the rest of us have,” Spike said, giving Buffy’s arms a final squeeze as he released her. The Slayer watched as he headed towards the office where Wesley had shut himself up.

Gunn shook his head. “I should go,” he said reluctantly. “I need to talk to Angel.”

Lorne nodded. “What do you have in the kitchen, sweetheart?” he asked Buffy.

“Everything you need,” she replied, knowing his fondness for a stiff Seabreeze.

Willow, Buffy, and Dawn were left to stare at each other, feeling removed from everything that had just occurred. “Let’s go get something to eat,” Buffy suggested. “I have a feeling that it’s going to be a while before it all gets sorted out.”


	18. Give Me Strength

**“Sitting in the rain alone/looking at a place that’s gone/boarded up my memories/but something’s drawn me here again and I/I cannot leave the past alone/Hoped that I would never find/all the shit I left behind …I don’t want to hear the things/you say you know all you’ve redeemed/’cause I can’t change what’s come before/build myself some better dreams…Give me strength to find the road that’s lost in me/Give me time to heal and build myself a dream/Give me eyes to see the world surrounding me/Give me strength to be only me.” ~Over the Rhine, “Give Me Strength**

Fred had no idea where she was going, only that she needed to leave. She needed space to deal with the memories that had suddenly flooded the empty spaces in her mind. She needed to know if she could deal with it all.

Not that she actually had a choice.

It was all there now. Wesley’s betrayal, her harsh words spoken in his hospital room, the way she’d used him. The way they had all used him.

He had told her that he’d loved her for a long time, but she wondered if remembering wouldn’t change that, because she was certain that his love wouldn’t have survived that horrible year.

Although, there had been that kiss in the midst of all the trouble with Angelus, even if their feelings had been horribly confused.

But he’d liked Lilah. Maybe even loved her, and Fred knew that she and Lilah had nothing in common. How could Wesley like the both of them?

She ended up walking the beach, watching the waves break against the sand, men and women in their bathing suits, children building sandcastles. There were college students, either on break or escaping from campus for the day.

Fred remembered doing the same thing herself on occasion. She and some of the other students in the physics lab would come to the beach for a few hours. They had talked about particle theory and quantum mechanics even as the sun beat down on them from overhead.

That fragile innocence had been destroyed in Pylea.

What strength she’d regained seemed ready to snap under the weight of her newly returned memories.

The craziest part of all of it was that Fred still loved him. She had loved Wesley even when she stood in his hospital room, telling him never to come back to the Hyperion. Maybe she hadn’t loved him as anything more than a friend, but the seeds had been there.

She should have known. She should have realized how he felt about her. The clues were all there, now that she looked back on that time with clear eyes. She had stood in his hospital room, looking at the pale figure in the bed, and she had broken him.

And then she’d gone to him for help, and he had done everything she asked.

He’d killed his father for her. Somehow she knew he would have done so even if he’d remembered everything. That was just Wesley.

Fred somehow knew that what had happened between her and Gunn, what had gone on with Connor and Jasmine and all the rest, didn’t matter to Wesley even now. He had helped her kill Professor Seidel. Gunn had been the one to snap the man’s neck, but Wesley had shown her what to do, what spell to use to open the right portal. He’d told her how she would feel afterwards, and then he’d wished her luck.

He’d kissed her in Angel’s office, and the way he had looked at her—

Fred sat down on the sand with a bump as the weight came crashing down again, the weight of all that had come before, and she suddenly hated Angel.

She hated him because maybe they all might have gone on to rebuild what they’d once had, and maybe they could have rebuilt it better if they had had their memories intact. They knew the horrible truth of what they were all capable of being and doing. They knew each other better than anyone in the world could know them because they had seen the worst and the best, the secrets that hid beneath their masks.

Now, everything they thought they had was revealed as false, because they didn’t know, not really. She had loved a mask, never knowing what lay underneath.

The real problem was that she loved the man, too. She loved Wesley, even with the gaps in her memory filled. Fred just didn’t understand how he could love her.

~~~~~

“They won’t remember, will they?” Connor asked as they stood awkwardly in Cordelia’s room. At her puzzled look, he explained, “My parents. They won’t remember me now that the spell is broken.”

Cordelia sighed. “I don’t know. You could go by and find out.”

Connor shook his head. “I have the memories, you know. I remember what it was like to grow up in a normal home, with regular parents, and it’s all a lie.”

“It’s not a complete lie,” Cordelia said softly.

“How can you say that?” Connor demanded, his voice rising. “How could he do this to me?”

“It’s not a lie because it’s what he wanted for you.” They both knew she was referring to Angel. “He loved you enough to give you up. I know that probably doesn’t make sense, but—”

“I get it.” It was almost a whisper, and a fat tear trickled down his cheek. “I remember that, too. You know what the craziest part of it all is?”

Cordelia sat down next to him on the bed and put an arm around his shoulders. “What’s that?”

“This last year was real. That was me. I didn’t—before, I didn’t know who I was, but I do now. At least, I know who I want to be. I liked who I was,” he added wistfully.

Cordelia was quiet. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t.” They hadn’t talked about the rest of it. She hadn’t yet spoken of the fact that she had slept with him—even if it was only her body. “I loved you,” Connor said quietly. “I guess I still do, but not—I understand now.”

“What do you understand?” she asked softly.

The boy shrugged. “I get that you’re like my mom, and that makes it kind of gross, you know?” He looked off into the distance. “I know what it’s supposed to feel like now. I know it’s supposed to be—different than it was. I’ve had—”

“You’ve had a mother,” Cordelia said.

He nodded, relieved that she understood, that he didn’t have to explain further. “Yeah, that.”

“Connor,” she began, pausing as she tried to find the right words. Cordelia was used to speaking her mind, letting her thoughts pop out of her mouth. This boy was too fragile, and too precious for that. She wanted to find the right thing to say for his sake. “Last year was really bad,” she finally said. “You know I wasn’t really me, right?”

He nodded, and she continued. “I can promise you that I won’t lie to you, and I can promise that we’ll be here for you, all of us, no matter how things work out with your parents.”

“Thanks,” he replied hoarsely. Connor stared down at his hands. “I think I want to stay in school. That was real.”

“Yes, it was,” Cordelia agreed.

Connor took a deep breath. “I want to see my—Angel, too. I need to talk to him.”

“Okay. I’ll set it up,” she promised.

Connor nodded. “And if something happens with my folks, can I come back here?”

“Always.”

And she held him as he mourned his fake parents, in a fake life, that still felt more real to him than any of his newly restored memories.

~~~~~

Spike broke the lock on the door easily. Wesley would make him repair it later, but he didn’t care. The ex-Watcher needed to not be alone right now, and since Fred had dashed off, it seemed like he was nominated.

“I locked the door for a reason, you know,” Wesley said, his voice cold.

Spike lifted an eyebrow and sat down, sprawling comfortably. “It was a stupid reason.”

“This isn’t about you,” Wesley said. “You have no idea—”

“You betrayed him,” Spike said evenly. “I know. You told me.”

“No, you don’t—”

“Then they betrayed you and left you out in the cold,” Spike continued inexorably. “That loneliness ate at you so bad you thought you’d go crazy.” Wesley remained silent. Spike figured he was probably on the right track. “You lost everything that ever meant anything to you, and Angel took that away. He took everything that might have made a difference, and now that all those memories are back, you’re pretty damn sure that it’s going to destroy everything you’ve been working towards. When you leave this office, it’s all gonna fall apart.”

Wesley sat down behind the desk. “How do you do that?” he asked wearily.

“Think about who I lived with,” Spike replied. “You’d better know how to read subtext around Angelus and Dru or they’ll eat you alive. Trust me.”

He buried his head in his hands. “Did Fred leave?”

“Yeah, she did, but probably not for the reasons you’re thinking,” Spike replied. “She loves you, Wesley.”

“You don’t know that,” he replied. “You don’t know what she said, or—how could she?”

“What?”

“How could she love me after what I did?”

Spike took a deep, unnecessary breath. “I don’t know.”

Wesley shot him a hurt look. “Thank you so much.”

“How could I love Buffy after she left me to dust in an alley?” Spike continued, as though he was simply continuing the discussion. As though it had some relevance. “How could Buffy still love me after I tried to rape her? You tell me.”

Wesley was staring at him. “I didn’t—”

“It’s not something either of us are particularly proud of,” Spike replied quietly. “Why would we spread it around?”

He rose, going to the cupboard where he knew the ex-Watcher kept his alcohol. “This is what’s goin’ to happen,” Spike said, almost cheerfully. “I’m going to get you drunk, then you’re going to sleep. Tomorrow, you’ll wake up with a hangover, and then you’ll hunt Fred down and tell her that knowing everything that went on doesn’t make a difference to you. If she’s anything like the girl I think I know, she’ll tell you the same, and you’ll shag like a couple of rabbits while Buffy and I make sure that whoever’s after Connor gets what’s comin’ to him.”

Wesley stared at the proffered glass. “Spike—”

“’s a good plan.”

Wesley slammed back the shot and watched as Spike refilled the glass. “I like that plan.”

~~~~~

The knock on the door startled Connor. He looked up to see Dawn. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replied.

“How are you?”

“Okay,” he replied. “I think it’s going to be okay. Where did you guys go?”

“I went to get something to eat with Buffy and Willow, since I have to fly back tomorrow.” At his crestfallen expression, Dawn added, “But I’m coming back as soon as school’s over, and then I’m staying here.” She sat down on the bed. “I wanted to tell you that we stopped by the hospital.”

Connor shut his eyes. “Did you—”

“I’m so sorry.” Dawn didn’t tell him that she’d disguised herself as a hospital volunteer so she could chat up his mother. Or that when asked about her kids, the only child she remembered having was a daughter.

“I figured. I didn’t think—”

“I don’t think anyone really did,” she said. “I know how you feel.” His eyes shot open, and anger flashed hot sparks at her. “No, really, because I’m fake too.”

Connor stared at her. “What are you talking about?” he asked in a flat tone.

“I mean, I didn’t actually exist until I was fourteen, and everything I remember before that was because some monks made it up.” Dawn smiled at him. “I was really mad when I found out.”

“What did you do?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

She shrugged. “I cut myself to see if I was real. I figured if I bled, I had to be real, right?”

Strangely enough, that made perfect sense to Connor. “And then?”

“And then my sister told me that I was a Summers, and Mom basically said the same, so it didn’t matter if I wasn’t real, because we chose each other.”

“What are you saying?” Connor asked.

Dawn gave him a look that suggested he was being intentionally obtuse. “I’m saying that you’re not fake. That you’ve got a real family here that want you, and that counts for a lot.”

Connor looked at her. “What happened to your mom?”

“She died,” Dawn said simply. “So it’s just me and Buffy. Well, there’s Spike too. He’s family.”

“I’m sorry,” Connor replied.

Dawn nodded. “Yeah, I know. Everyone always is. Do you want to go out?”

“What?”

“Do you want to go out?”

“Like on a date?” he asked, sounding so bewildered that Dawn took pity on him.

“Or as friends. I don’t care. I just figured you’d want to get out of here.”

“I do.” Connor realized that he needed out. He needed something else, too. He needed a good fight, the opportunity to stretch muscles that hadn’t been used for months. That could wait, though. First, he needed to escape for a little while. “You want to go see a movie?”

“Sure,” Dawn replied. “I’ll even let you pick.”

~~~~~

Fred entered the office just as Spike was spreading a blanket over Wesley. “Is he asleep?”

“Not so much asleep as unconscious,” Spike replied, straightening. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Fred stopped, realizing that it was true. She was fine. “I think we’ll be fine, too.”

Spike smiled at her. “I know you will be, Pixie. You got a lot of fight in you.”

“Enough to fight for him,” she agreed. “Have you talked to Cordelia?”

The vampire shook his head. “No. What’s she got to say?”

“She’s taking Connor to see Angel tomorrow.” Fred hesitated. “Buffy, Willow and Dawn went to see Connor’s parents. They don’t remember him anymore. It’s like he never existed in their minds. No one is sure where the last year went, but—”

“I imagine it went where everything else goes when you see something that doesn’t make any sense,” Spike replied. “Ask the Slayer. We saw it all the time in Sunnydale. You could vamp right in front of someone, and they’d write it off as a gang member on PCP.”

“Yeah,” Fred agreed. “We’ve seen it before too.” She walked over to where Wesley lay, touching his stubbled cheek fondly. “Do you think he’ll be okay, Spike?”

Spike hesitated. “If I were in your shoes, pet, I’d be here when he wakes up.”

Fred understood what he meant without any elaboration. If she was here, it might give him the reassurance that he needed. “I’ll be here.”

Spike smiled at her. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Spike?”

“Yeah, pet?”

“Thanks. For staying with him.”

Spike looked at the sleeping man. “Not a problem.”

~~~~~

Buffy woke as Spike entered their room. She had fallen asleep while waiting for him to come up. Sitting up, she watched as he stripped and then crawled under the covers, unsurprised when he immediately reached for her.

They just held each other, legs and arms tangled so that it was difficult to tell where one began and the other ended.

“I have to say that it’s really nice not to be in the middle of the drama for once.”

Spike chuckled. “Can’t disagree with you, luv.”

Buffy sighed, pressing her lips to his bare chest, beginning to nibble at his skin. “I mean, for once we’re not the ones doing the whole big dramatic scene, you know?”

“I know,” he said, sighing under her ministrations. “Also nice to know that there isn’t anything like that hanging between us. One thing we can say, we’ve never really been dishonest with each other.”

Buffy looked up to meet his eyes. “Actually, that’s not true.”

Spike’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talkin’ about?” he asked suspiciously.

“I loved you when I was telling you I didn’t,” she replied.

Spike snorted. “Well, yeah. I knew that already, pet.”

Buffy glared at him. “Hey! I’m trying to be honest here, buster.”

“Buffy-luv, I knew. Something in me knew, even if I couldn’t quite bring myself to believe it.” Spike smirked at her. “Your lips might lie, but your eyes can’t. You’re a horrible liar, Slayer.”

“Tell that to my mother,” Buffy said in a hurt tone. “I lied about being the Slayer for years, and she never found out.”

“No, she thought you were a trouble-maker,” he corrected her. “She had no clue about the Slayer part, but she was mostly right about the other.”

“I was not a trouble-maker,” Buffy retorted, gasping as Spike’s mouth began to work its way south. “Trouble found me.”

“Right.” He didn’t stop. Spike’s lips and tongue were working their magic, and Buffy lost the thread of their conversation entirely. “Point is, we’re honest with each other now,” Spike said, taking a momentary break.

“Don’t stop,” she commanded. “And, yes, very honest. Can we get back to the point now?”

“What is the point?” Spike teased.

Buffy mock-glared at him. “That I love you and you love me, and you need to get back to what you’re doing.”

“Whatever my lady wants,” he replied, and set about doing just that.


	19. Redeeming an Angel

**“You’re makin’ a mess/Somethin’ I can’t fix/This time you’re on your own/I’d make it alright/But I wouldn’t get it right/I’m leavin’ it alone…I’m waiting for the end/Waiting to begin again/You’re makin’ a mess/Somethin’ you can’t hide/A slow suicide/Just one bite at a time/I should love you less/But I can’t I guess…” Over the Rhine, “B.P.D.”**

“I’m done,” Gunn said quietly.

Angel had known this moment was coming. He’d watched over the last month as the lab tech’s death ate at the man. Somehow he’d known that Wolfram &amp; Hart was the end of the line for all of them. You couldn’t be given your heart’s desire and not have it change you.

Not always for the better, either.

“Okay,” Angel replied.

“My contract has a non-compete clause,” Gunn said, “but you’re not really in competition with Angel Investigations. I’m going to be doing some work for Anne, too. Pro-bono stuff.”

“That’s good.” The vampire’s face revealed none of his inner turmoil. He had asked for this. He had freely agreed to come work here, and he realized that he would have to make the best of a bad situation.

Angel had never believed that it would get this bad, however.

Gunn nodded. “I’m gone by the end of today. I figure you’ll be hearing from Lorne, too.”

“I expected to,” Angel admitted, watching his friend leave without saying anything else.

When the door shut behind Gunn, Angel stood and walked over to the windows, looking out over the city. It was a great view. In some ways, it was a great job. Most people would love to be where he was.

Of course, Angel wasn’t most guys.

He missed his friends. He missed the camaraderie they’d had before everything had gone all to hell. Angel missed getting up close and personal with the people he was trying to save. If he could have left, he would have, but there was no chance of that, not while Wolfram &amp; Hart still held his soul hostage.

His mind wandered to Connor. Angel knew he probably should have kept a closer eye on his son, but it had been too painful. That was his boy who was calling strangers “mom” and “dad.”

Connor was _his_. No, he corrected himself, Connor had been his. He wasn’t any longer.

“Brooding again, huh?”

Angel stiffened. “Cordelia.” He hadn’t seen her since she’d woken and insisted on calling Wesley. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you,” she replied. “What else?”

He turned slowly. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” Cordelia smiled softly. “Probably better than you are.”

Angel shook his head. “Cordy—”

“There’s someone here who wants to see you,” she said, looking behind her to the open door of his office.

Connor walked in. Angel could see that his son was troubled. Connor looked tired, and there were deep circles under his eyes. “Connor…”

“Hey, Dad.”

~~~~~

Dawn hugged both Buffy and Spike. “You guys are coming this summer, right?”

“We’ll be there with bells on,” Buffy promised. “Although, probably without the bells.”

Spike just grinned. “Yeah, sure, Niblet. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Have to drag back the rest of your sister’s stuff, right?”

“We’re so going to deserve a vacation after all of this anyway,” Buffy said. “We haven’t gotten one of those yet.”

Dawn beamed. “Cool.” She glanced back over her shoulder, knowing that her time was growing short. “You guys will take care of Connor?”

“We’re on the team,” Spike said. “Don’t worry, Bit. He’s a tough kid.”

Dawn shrugged. “Yeah, but this is a really sucky thing to have happen.”

“He’ll be fine, I’m sure.” Buffy hugged her sister one last time. “But we’ll tell him you were worried. Go, before you miss your flight.”

There was another last-minute hug for Spike, and then Dawn dashed off, slipping through the crowd. Spike reflexively wrapped an arm around Buffy’s shoulders. “It’s just a few more weeks, luv,” he said softly.

“I know,” Buffy replied. “It’s just—I don’t think I realized how much I missed her until she came to visit.”

“Do you want to go back to Rome until she’s through with school for the year?” Spike asked. “We can have you on a flight tomorrow.”

Buffy hesitated before shaking her head. “Dawn and I talked, Spike. We’ll see her again soon enough, and she doesn’t mind. Plus, with everything that’s been going on here…” She sighed. “You do know that they’re going to manage to get Angel out of Wolfram and Hart one of these days, don’t you?”

“That was the plan,” he replied flippantly as they made their way back to the parking lot.

Buffy bumped him with her shoulder. “What are you going to want to do when that happens? I know you and Angel don’t see eye to eye. On anything.”

Spike smiled. “Buffy, luv, the main reason I’ve always hated Angel is because he always seemed to get what I want. That’s no longer a concern.”

She frowned. “What do you—” There was a long silence. “You aren’t going to be insufferable about this, are you? Because I really don’t like thinking of myself as a prize to be won.”

“Have you seen the look on Cordelia’s face when Angel’s name is mentioned?” Spike asked softly.

Buffy looked at him. “I know she’s in love with him, Spike.”

“The feeling is mutual, I can guarantee that much.” Spike smirked. “I don’t need to rub it in, because Angel has his own girl. If he does get jealous for some idiotic reason, Cordelia’ll kick his ass.”

Buffy laughed. “Okay, I guess that much is true. You’re really thinking you want to stay, though?”

Spike shrugged. “Well, much as I like the hotel, ‘m not sure I want to stay _there_, but stay in L.A.? Yeah, I do. I’ve got friends here, pet.”

“I know. So do I,” Buffy murmured. “This is what I missed, you know.”

“What’s that?”

“Being a part of a group,” she replied. “I mean, training the Slayers was okay, but when everyone got so spread out, all the fun went out of it.” Buffy sighed. “I’m going to miss Willow when she has to leave in a few days.”

Willow had decided to stick around for a few extra days, just to make sure that the magician didn’t pose any more problems for them now that his spell had been broken. She was off seeing her parents at the moment, but she was coming back to the hotel later that day.

“I know you will, luv,” Spike said. “Buffy, I don’t want you to feel like you’re stuck here in L.A. for anythin’. You can go wherever you need to go.”

She knew what Spike was trying to say. He didn’t want to tie her down to one place if she wanted to travel. “Maybe one of these days,” Buffy acknowledged. “I’m right where I want to be for the moment, though.”

~~~~~

When Wesley woke up, the light coming into the office seemed to pierce his brain. He was beginning to remember why he’d stopped drinking so much, but downing the bottle of scotch had seemed like a good idea last night.

He was going to kill Spike.

“Here.” The voice was soft, almost a whisper, and Wesley took the glass of water and aspirin she was handing to him. “Spike said you probably wouldn’t be feeling very well.”

“I’m going to kill Spike.”

“He might have been pouring, but you were drinking,” Fred said, her tone wry. “I don’t think blaming him will make the hangover go away either.”

The memories came rushing back, and Wesley winced. “What are you doing here?”

“You know,” Fred replied in a conversational tone. “I think we’ve both made some really stupid mistakes.”

“That goes without saying,” Wesley muttered, his head in his hands. The room wouldn’t stop spinning.

“So I thought about it, and I came to the conclusion that Angel was really wrong to take our memories, because it was like we got together under false pretences.”

He bit back a groan. Here it was. Fred was going to tell him that they couldn’t be together. Her feelings for him had been manufactured by that spell, and now—

“The funny thing is, I still love you.”

Wesley’s head shot up. “What?”

“I love you,” she said clearly. “Wesley, you shot your father for me. Granted, that was before you remembered those horrible things I said to you, and so if you don’t like me anymore, I’ll completely understand, but—”

He stopped her ramble with one finger over her lips. Wesley would have tried kissing her, but with the taste in his mouth, he was fairly certain she’d never forgive him for that. “Say the first part again.”

“I love you.” Fred raised her eyebrows. “I’m assuming you don’t hate me.”

“No, of course not,” Wesley exclaimed. “How could I?”

“Remember the whole ‘we both made stupid mistakes’ thing?” Fred asked. She cupped his stubbled cheek. “You have just as much right to not love me anymore as I have to not love you anymore.”

“I’ve loved you since I’ve known you,” Wesley replied. “Or perhaps before. I think maybe before.”

Fred smiled at him. “Sometimes I can be sorta slow. It took me a little longer.”

Hangover nearly forgotten, Wesley pulled her to him. “I was so afraid—”

“I know.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “You don’t have to be afraid of that anymore. I love you.” There was a pause. “I wouldn’t mind hearing it from you again, you know.”

“I love you,” he murmured.

“Then you won’t mind me telling you that you really need a shower,” she said, teasing him.

He chuckled. “I would believe you.” Wesley ran a hand down her hair. “I love you.”

“I know,” Fred replied. “You’ve proven it again and again.” She grinned at him, her eyes full of mischief. “By the way, my parents know about us.”

Wesley looked a little alarmed. “Really?”

“Yep, and they’re thrilled.” Her grin turned sly. “They’re going to be here in a coupla weeks. I know they’ll love seeing both of us.”

Wesley gulped. He might be a bad-ass demon hunter, but meeting the parents was still fraught with danger. “Great.”

She laughed out loud. “They already love you, Wes. Come on,” she stood, pulling him with her. “Shower, and then breakfast.” Glancing at the clock, she amended, “Okay, lunch.”

“Right behind you,” Wesley replied, his heart lighter than it had been in a very long time.

~~~~~

“I’ll let you two get caught up,” Cordy said, slipping out the door, leaving Angel to stare at his son.

“What—what happened?” Angel finally asked after a long silence.

Connor shrugged, not quite meeting his eyes. “Wesley broke the memory spell you had put on everyone.”

“Why?” Angel demanded. “That was for your protection!”

“It didn’t protect me!” Connor shot back. “My—” He stopped. “The people you gave me to, they were hurt because of me, and I couldn’t protect them.” His face reflected conflicted emotions: despair, rage, longing. “If I had known—I could have stopped it from happening.”

Angel sat down heavily, closing his eyes. Nothing was working out how he had planned. Connor was supposed to have a nice life, have everything Angel hadn’t been able to give him. “Who broke the spell?”

“Someone named Willow,” Connor replied, sitting down in the available chair.

Angel shook his head. “She’d be the only one powerful enough,” he muttered. “I don’t know of anyone else.”

“They—my parents—they don’t remember me anymore,” Connor said quietly. “It’s like I never existed for them. We—I still don’t know how far that goes, but I’m pretty sure I’m still going to college.”

“Where?”

“Stanford.”

“Really?” Angel smiled. “That’s great. Do you like it there?”

“Yeah, I do,” Connor replied. “I’m going back just as soon as we clear this up. I need to know who was after me.”

Angel nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll look into it.”

Connor stood. “I should get back to Cordy. Do you have the phone number?”

“I have it.” Angel watched him as he headed towards the door. “If you need anything—anything at all—”

Connor paused, then looked back over his shoulder. “I know who to come to.” He was just about to close the door behind him, when he met Angel’s eyes. “I’m going to be okay.”

Angel watched as the door closed, and then ran a hand over his face. Connor was doing fine. He was the same well-adjusted kid he’d been a week ago when he was in the office for the first time.

And Angel was still trapped at Wolfram &amp; Hart, with no way to leave. No way at all.

~~~~~

When Willow returned to the hotel, it was to find everyone gone except for Lorne, who was still sipping a Seabreeze. “Hey, Lorne,” the witch greeted him. “Where is everybody?”

“Out and about,” he replied. “Scattered to the four winds.”

Willow frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Okay?” Lorne asked, bitterness edging his tone. “Okay was owning Caritas, listening to people sing, setting them on their paths. Okay was entertaining folks every night. This—this is not it.”

She sat down next to him. “That doesn’t mean you can’t get it back, right? You could open another club.”

He sighed. “Ignore me. I’m just—”

“Still reeling from the spell?” she asked. “It was a big change.”

“What exactly did you do?” Lorne asked. “It felt like—”

“I restored things to the way they were meant to be,” Willow replied. “You can alter reality all you want, and sometimes it’s okay. I mean, the monks that made Dawn inserted her into a reality that already existed. This warlock basically created something entirely new. It wasn’t necessarily a good thing.”

“Angel meant for it to be, I think,” Lorne said softly. “I can’t blame him. We all loved Connor, you know. As a baby, anway. When he came back from Quortoth all grown up, he was a real pill. Then everything went bad, and—maybe I would have done the same thing in his place.”

Willow smiled. “Angel usually has the best of intentions, even if the execution isn’t the greatest.”

Cordelia and Connor came walking through the doors of the hotel. “Hey guys,” Cordelia said. “Anything new?”

“Everybody’s gone,” Willow replied. “That’s new.” She gave Connor a sympathetic look. “How are you today?”

He shrugged. “I’m okay. It’s weird, but I’ll deal.” Connor looked over at Lorne. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Lorne asked with some surprise.

“For being a jerk.” Connor suddenly smiled, and it caused his whole face to light up. “It’s not like I can really throw stones. My dad’s a vampire.”

Lorne gave him a considering look. “Apology accepted. Would you mind humming a few bars for me?”

Connor looked surprised, and then started humming a nondescript top-40 radio tune. Lorne was just grateful that it wasn’t Barry Manilow, since Angel had murdered him enough for one century. “Thanks, lamb,” he said, looking at Cordy. “Connor here needs to kill someone. Actually, it would be better for everyone involved if he killed more than one someone.”

“Is it a demon?” Connor asked hopefully.

“A couple of demons, including a magician of some sort.” Lorne shrugged. “I don’t know much more than that, but when Angel calls, make sure you take some backup. You’ll know who to get then.” Lorne’s face suddenly softened. “And you’ve got a family and a home, kiddo. This is it right here.”

Connor looked surprised for a minute and then nodded. “I’m going to be upstairs,” he told Cordelia. “You’ll tell me when Angel calls?” She nodded and watched him walk away, his shoulders slumped.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have done the spell,” Cordy murmured. “Or have done—”

“There wasn’t any other way,” Willow replied. “Or if there was, and I missed something, I’m not sure the outcome would have been any better.”

“I guess the question is how we’re supposed to get Angel out of Wolfram and Hart,” Cordy mused.

Lorne took another sip of his Seabreeze. “That’s up to Connor.”

“What?” Cordelia stared at him.

Lorne shrugged. “The only one who can get Angel out is his son, but the kid has to want to do it. Give it some time, and don’t push him. Connor will figure it out for himself.”

Cordelia sighed. She’d been patient this long. A little longer wouldn’t hurt.

~~~~~

Wesley had showered at his place, Fred waiting patiently in his living room. The steam cleared his head, so that he felt almost human by the time he got out.

When he emerged from the bathroom, Fred was watching a special on whales on PBS. “I don’t have much food here,” he said quietly, trying not to startle her.

She glanced up at him, over the back of the couch. “I called and ordered takeout,” she replied.

“That will be fine, then.”

There was an awkward pause. Wesley wasn’t quite sure what to say, what the next step might be. He wasn’t quite sure if they knew one another better, or not at all.

Fred patted the cushion next to her, and he came to sit down, both of them turning their attention towards the television. Wesley wasn’t particularly interested in whales, but it was better than trying to make small talk, which they’d long outgrown.

How the bloody hell did you make small talk with someone you’d tried to kill, someone you’d known and loved for years? Even if you hadn’t remembered all of it until 24 hours before.

They might have sat there forever, not saying anything, until Fred turned to him, pulling his head down so that his lips met hers. Her fingers curled around his neck as she deepened her kiss. After a moment’s shock, Wesley began to return the embrace, entwining his fingers in her hair, his thumb caressing the side of her face where it rested.

Neither of them wanted to come up for air. The long, slow burn grew hotter, their hands became more frantic. Fred stretched out on top of him where they both lay on his couch. Things might have grown more heated yet if the doorbell hadn’t rung.

They both gave simultaneous groans. “That would be our food.”

Wesley grunted in response. “Ignore it.”

“Wesley, we can’t ignore it. I’m supposed to pay for it.” Fred hated being practical as much as he did at that moment, but she was hungry. If things were going to progress, she needed fuel.

By the time she came back with their order, Wesley was sitting up, a rueful expression on his face. “I suppose we shouldn’t have gotten started, knowing that our dinner was coming.”

Fred shrugged. “Well, I’m starving, and you have to be hungry. We’ll need our energy for later.”

He smiled, good humor sparkling in his blue eyes. “I fully intend on there being a later,” he warned.

“Good,” Fred replied, taking a huge bite of beef lo mein. “Because I wouldn’t have it any other way.”


	20. Trial By Fire

**“…I have my father’s hand/I have my mother’s tongue/I look for redemption in everyone…Changes come/turn my world around/Changes come/bring the whole thing down…Somedays I think that maybe/This ol’ world’s too f---ed up/for any firstborn son/ Memories of this untouched beauty/the light and dark both running through me/Is there still redemption for anyone?” ~Over the Rhine, “Changes Come”**

Spike decided that Connor was downright scary. It took the boy all of five minutes to cut Sahjahn’s head off. Vail had been so pleased that his ancient enemy was dead that he’d forgotten that Connor was just as dangerous to him. His head was rolling just a few moment later, since Connor had decided to take Lorne’s advice.

Spike supposed he should have known that it would be a doddle. A child of two vampires was no one to mess with. He’d gone with the boy and taken Buffy along with him just to watch the kid in action. That, and to ensure fair play.

Angel had called the day after Willow broke the memory spell, letting them know what Vail wanted. Connor had spoken to his father, and Spike had been able to hear both sides of the conversation. “Should I do it?” Connor asked.

“He was partly responsible for you growing up in Quortoth,” Angel had replied. “He’s not a good guy.”

“No problem,” had been Connor’s response, and it really hadn’t been. He certainly hadn’t needed Spike or Buffy for backup, although they had gone along anyway. He’d then announced his intention to head back up to Stanford. Cordelia had offered to drive him, since he was without transportation now that his foster parents no longer remembered that they had a son.

“Do you think he’ll be back?” Buffy asked later that night, after Connor had departed. “He didn’t say anything at all about Angel.”

Spike shrugged. “I dunno. He’s a decent kid, though. I imagine we’ll be hearing from him soon enough.”

“Soon enough” stretched into weeks. Even though Connor’s foster parents didn’t remember him, the school still had him enrolled, because that had taken place after Vail cast the spell. His school was paid for by a private scholarship from Wolfram &amp; Hart. He could bury himself in his studies and never come up for air if that’s what he chose to do.

Connor called every week, though, to talk to Cordelia and anyone else who happened to answer the phone. The agency went back to normal; Spike and Buffy had made plans to spend a week in Rome, packing up Buffy and Dawn’s apartment and seeing the sights together. Wesley and Fred were spending nearly every night at his apartment.

Gunn split his time fairly evenly between Anne’s teen shelter and the agency. To someone who knew what to look for, it appeared that they were a little more than friendly. Lorne was looking into starting up Caritas again.

It was nice, almost normal, and there was a huge hole where Angel had been.

Even Spike and Buffy could feel it, although they were more used to Angel not being around than vice versa. They had snagged everyone else from Wolfram &amp; Hart’s clutches, and it didn’t feel right, leaving Angel behind.

Spike and Buffy left for their Roman holiday at about the same time that Connor came back to the hotel. He moved in quietly, not saying much to anyone. Cordelia was the only one he really talked to, and even then Connor didn’t say a lot. Of course, those who remembered the sullen boy who had returned from Quortoth could see that there had been tremendous improvement.

By the time Buffy and Spike returned with Dawn in tow, everyone had settled down into a routine. With Gunn and Connor now available, their case load could—and did—nearly double. Everything seemed to be going well.

Spike had taken Connor with him on a particularly nasty extermination case early in July. Cordy had been fairly specific that no one was to mention Angel in Connor’s presence unless the boy brought it up.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Spike knew what was coming. “Sure.”

They had finished the job and were driving back towards the Hyperion. Spike made a quick turn, deciding that the scenic route back might be a better choice. “Is Angel ever going to leave Wolfram and Hart?” Connor asked. “I know he took the job there because of me, but—”

When he stopped, Spike filled in the blanks for him. “He bartered his soul.”

Connor stared out the window. “So if he leaves, he loses it.”

“That’s pretty much it in a nutshell,” Spike replied. “Trust me, we’ve been over this a few dozen times, but no one knows exactly how we’re goin’ to get Peaches out of there.”

Connor took a deep breath. “Is there something I can do?”

“I don’t know,” Spike said honestly. “We can check it out. Lorne might have an idea.” He glanced over at Connor, who was certainly family. “Look, you need a hand, I’m there. We are related.”

Connor hadn’t quite thought of it like that, but he supposed it was true. “I thought you hated Angel.”

“Everybody thinks I hate Angel,” Spike said, sounding exasperated. “I just like pulling the big oaf’s chain. Besides, if I help rescue him, I can rub it in for the next couple of centuries.”

Connor couldn’t help but laugh at that.

~~~~~

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

Angel watched as Cordelia took the seat across from him. The restaurant was fairly quiet this late in the evening, despite its popularity. He’d invited her to dinner, hardly daring to hope that she would join him.

“What? Miss an opportunity to get a free meal?” Cordelia teased. “Yeah, right. I haven’t changed that much, Angel.”

“But you’ve changed,” he said quietly.

She had changed. The seeds had been there before she’d been whisked off to a higher plane, but now they were in full bloom. The maturity and poise that he’d fallen in love with were even more in evidence. From everything he’d found out, Cordelia was the one holding the newly reformed agency together.

She had always been the glue.

“Yes, I have,” she replied. “It has a tendency to happen as you grow up.” Cordelia reached across the table to touch his hand. “How are you, Angel?”

“Good,” he said. “Connor came by the other day. Did you know that?”

“No.” She smiled. “We’ve been trying to give him his space. Connor’s a good kid.” Cordelia gave him a sympathetic look. “You did a good thing.”

He looked away. “I didn’t really have a choice. Everything—everything seems to be turning out okay, though.”

“Do you want to leave?”

No one had asked that question of him yet, had laid it out so starkly. “That’s not an option.”

“And if it was?” she countered quickly. “We might know of a way, Angel. The question is, do you want to leave?”

Did he? Did he really want to leave Wolfram &amp; Hart behind, to join his friends again, to get back to the job he loved? It should have been an easy decision; it wasn’t.

“If that were a possibility, then, yes,” he finally said. “I wouldn’t mind leaving. Cordy, you know the kind of hold they have. They aren’t just going to give up my contract. There isn’t—”

“You let us worry about that.” Cordelia sounded infinitely calm. “Wesley’s working on it, and you know how he is with a problem. He won’t let anything stand in his way.”

Angel shook his head. “I don’t—”

“Don’t think about it.” She took a deep breath. “Moving on—we never did get to finish that conversation we were supposed to have. I think now might be a really good time.”

Her tone brooked no opposition, and Angel gave in. “No, we didn’t,” he replied. “I wasn’t sure there was anything left to finish.”

She rolled her eyes in classic Queen C fashion. “Angel, don’t be an idiot. You know I love you.”

A flutter of hope started in Angel’s unbeating heart. “Is that right?”

“Of course,” she replied. “Except when you’re being an idiot.”

~~~~~

“How do I get him out of there?”

Wesley looked up in surprise to see Connor standing in front of his desk, a determined expression on his face. “I’m sorry?”

“How do I get my dad out of Wolfram and Hart?”

The ex-Watcher leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know,” he replied honestly. “I’ve run across a couple of things that might work, but neither alternative is particularly attractive.”

“Let’s hear them,” Connor said, sitting down and watching Wesley with an intensity that was unnerving.

“The first is to go to Africa,” Wesley said. “That’s where Spike won his soul. From what he has said, there are trials to pass, and then one can make a wish. Unfortunately, it seems that may only be open to demons. Angel could go and perhaps win his soul that way, but it’s likely that Wolfram and Hart would see it as a defection.”

“And Angelus would be loose again.” Connor shook his head. “What’s the other option?”

Wesley sighed. “Angel once tried to save your mother—Darla—by going through a series of trials. That may be a viable option, but again, we’re not sure that it would work. The forces behind the law firm are incredibly powerful. To challenge them for possession of Angel’s soul may be virtually impossible.”

Connor was silent. “What if we didn’t challenge them for Angel’s soul?”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Wesley replied.

The young man shifted uncomfortably. “What if he died—and then we got him back somehow?”

Wesley frowned, then rummaged through the stacked files on his desk to find the folder holding Angel’s contract. He scanned through the relevant sections. He’d read through the document so many times at this point that he could easily pinpoint the key paragraph. “Bloody hell,” he muttered. “Why didn’t we think of this before?”

Connor wasn’t certain what Wesley meant, but he remained silent as the older man dialed Gunn’s cell phone number. “Gunn? We need you back at the hotel as soon as possible. I think we may have found a way to extract Angel.”

Wesley hung up and looked at the boy he’d betrayed—the child he’d tried to save. He’d loved Connor and Angel enough to give up everything, and now it looked as if he might finally be able to redeem himself. “We’re going to get your father back.”

Connor nodded. “Yeah, we are.”

~~~~~

“So what’s the big deal?” Spike asked, once they had all gathered.

Wesley held up the copy of Angel’s contract. “I found a loophole.” He and Gunn had been going back and forth for the last few hours, trying to determine if it was truly possible to get Angel out of the contract.

“What? How?” Buffy asked. “Are we going to try Spike’s method?”

Wesley shook his head. “As we already decided, it’s too risky. There’s no guarantee that the demon would be able to wrest control of Angel’s soul away from the Senior Partners.”

“Then what?” Cordelia asked. She’d just come back from dinner with Angel, and was the last to arrive for the meeting. Their date had confirmed what she’d believed: she was still in love with him.

Wesley’s expression was one of grim satisfaction. “The contract that they made with Angel stands as long as he’s a vampire.”

There was a long silence, and then Spike began to shake his head. “So what? There isn’t any way to make a vampire human. It’s—”

“It’s possible,” Cordelia contradicted. “Angel was human once.”

“When?” Buffy demanded.

She shrugged. “A few years ago. He got the Oracles to turn back time so he could stay a vampire. He thought it would be better that way.”

Fred was frowning. “But how? I mean, technically, turning a vampire human again is impossible. You’d have to get rid of the demon, and since you’ve got a dead body—”

“In Angel’s case it was Mohra blood,” Cordelia replied. “But Mohra demons are usually in a completely different dimension. It’s going to be impossible to find one.”

Wesley shook his head. “Not impossible,” he argued.

“That’s not the point,” Gunn interrupted. “We’re not talkin’ about going after a demon for this.”

“I take it Connor has decided to endure the trials,” Lorne said quietly.

Wesley hesitated. “It hasn’t been decided that it will be Connor.”

“Yes, it has been,” Connor said, his chin set stubbornly. “He’s my dad, and he’s there because of me.”

“Connor—” Cordelia began, uncomfortable with the idea of the young man placing himself in that much danger. She still remembered how badly beaten Angel had been when he was done with the trials.

“He’s right.” Everyone’s eyes turned to Spike. “Connor’s got the right to do this. Angel’s his family, an’ he’s old enough to decide for himself. There’s no one else better suited.”

Relief touched Connor’s eyes. “Thanks.”

Buffy was nodding. “Not that I’m totally in favor of the plan, but Spike and I are probably the only other people who stand a chance of doing this—”

“And we’re not goin’ to risk it,” Spike finished for her. “Not that we don’t want Angel out of that law firm, but we’ve both died saving the world. Neither one of us are in a hurry to die savin’ Angel from himself.”

“What’s the guarantee that Angel wouldn’t try to be a vampire again?” Fred asked tentatively. “If he went and had time turned back in the past, wouldn’t he try it again?”

“He’d better not,” Wesley said sharply. “Not if it’s the only way.”

“Angel was worried about a prophecy at the time,” Cordelia said, with a significant look at Spike. “But that’s not necessarily an issue anymore.”

“What prophecy?” Buffy asked suspiciously. She glared at Spike. “You didn’t tell me you were part of a prophecy.”

“’m not,” Spike said. “Or I might be, but it doesn’t really matter. Just says that the souled vampire will become human after he’s saved the world a few hundred times. Don’t know that it applies to me.”

“No one knows,” Gunn inserted. “It doesn’t matter, though. What matters is that if we can turn Angel human, the contract doesn’t apply to him, because he’s essentially a different person, and a new legal entity.”

“Can it be done?” Connor asked Lorne.

Lorne gave him a long look. “Well, if it can be, you’re the only one who has a chance of succeeding, cupcake. It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” he said. “I’m doing it.”

~~~~~

“I hear I missed all the excitement,” Dawn said, poking her head into Connor’s room. She’d just come back from visiting Janice, who had moved to L.A. shortly before Sunnydale disappeared from the map.

He looked up, offering her a smile. “You didn’t miss much. It was mostly arguing.”

“So you’re really going to do this?” she asked.

“If it was Buffy or Spike, wouldn’t you?”

“In a heartbeat,” Dawn replied, sitting down next to him on the bed. “When are you going?”

Connor shrugged. “Tonight, I guess. Lorne knows where it is, so he’s going to take me, but I have to go in by myself.”

“Are you going to tell Angel?”

“No.” Connor smiled. “Do you really think he’d let me go?”

Dawn laughed. “Knowing him, he’d probably tie you up or something.”

Connor studied her. When Dawn had come back from Italy, he’d found himself still attracted to her, although they weren’t dating. The attraction had a lot more to do with the fact that she was from the same world that he was, knew what it was to be something other than completely human. Dawn had once been a green, glowy thing, even if she wasn’t anymore. She wasn’t too freaked out by him being superboy.

Still, dating could make things complicated, and right now he wanted a friend more than anything else. Connor wanted someone his own age he could talk to at moments like this. A fellow orphan-of-a-sort, who understood how awkward it could be, trying to pass for normal, living in two different worlds.

“I have to do this,” he said quietly. “I mean, he saved me, even after—” Connor stopped. “I hurt him really bad, you know. I thought he’d killed my—Holtz, and I put him in a metal box and sent him to the bottom of the ocean.”

Dawn winced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah. I figure I owe him one, you know?” Connor sighed, leaning against the wall. “I went to see him the other day, and it was weird. He’s my father, but I don’t really know him. I figured out that I’ll probably never get a chance to know him if he stays at Wolfram and Hart.”

“That makes sense,” she agreed. Dawn reached over and grabbed his hand impulsively, meaning for it to be a friendly gesture. “If anyone can do it, you can.”

Connor just smiled back. It was nice to know someone had that kind of faith in him.


	21. Saving You

**“The darkest part of every night/is just before the dawn/the sun begins to rise/when we admit that we were wrong/So here I stumble home to you/to find the words to use/it seems the voices in my head/I seldom get to choose./So it seems/life is just a troubled sea/that we sail for free/Don’t let me drown.” ~Over the Rhine, “Fairpoint Diary”**

One minute Angel was in his suite inside Wolfram &amp; Hart. The next, he was standing in a familiar stone-walled chamber, watching Connor remove his shirt and shoes.

“No,” he said, rushing forward. “Connor, you can’t—” The room disappeared as he found himself in a different antechamber, waiting for Jeeves. “You can’t let him do this,” Angel said as soon as Jeeves appeared.

“That isn’t your choice to make,” Jeeves replied with infuriating calm. “Connor is the one who must make that determination.”

Angel might have tried to force Jeeves to return him to the room where Connor was facing the trials, but he suddenly found himself chained to the wall. “I’m sorry, sir,” Jeeves said when Angel protested. “The state of your soul is in question at the moment. I would hate to see you lose it.”

He struggled against the chains that held him. “Show me!”

Jeeves regarded him steadily. “As you wish.” He tapped Angel on the forehead, and the vampire suddenly saw the scene unfold in his mind’s eye.

He couldn’t believe that the others would allow Connor to take this kind of risk—couldn’t believe that Cordelia wouldn’t have prevented his son from taking his life in his hands. Angel wanted to tell him that it wasn’t necessary, that he was satisfied at Wolfram &amp; Hart, just as long as he knew his boy was safe.

The first trial unfolded much as his own had, although Connor managed to take the demon out much faster. He was poetry in motion, his young muscles rippling under taut skin. Angel couldn’t quite believe that Connor was _his_.

“Use the hooks,” he muttered helplessly when Connor turned his back on the demon he’d hewn in half.

In the next minute, Connor had separated the two halves, hanging them up in separate corners of the room. “Good boy,” Angel murmured. He wasn’t worried for himself at the moment—Connor had to complete the trials or forfeit his life.

Angel held his non-required breath as he waited for the next phase to begin.

~~~~~

Buffy cleaned off the ax for the fifth time. “How much longer do you think it’ll take?”

“No idea,” Spike replied, trying to hide his own impatience. It wasn’t that he liked Angel, but the brooding git was family, just as Connor was. Whatever else could be said for him, Spike was loyal to his family.

The Slayer gave up on the ax and came to sit next to him. “Giles called me today.”

“When?”

“This afternoon,” she replied. “You were still sleeping.”

“And what did the great Watcher have to say?”

Buffy didn’t bother trying to chide him for his sarcasm. There was no love lost between Giles and Spike; she highly doubted that they’d ever be more than just civil to one another. Too much had happened, too many harsh words had been spoken for that. “He wants me to start training Slayers,” Buffy replied.

Spike looked over at her in surprise. “He what?”

“Wants me to start training Slayers,” Buffy repeated patiently. “He’s got Faith and Robin in Cleveland. He wants someone on the west coast too, and I’m here and looking to stay.”

Spike shifted uncomfortably. “What did you tell him?”

“I told him I’d have to discuss it with you, and if he was hiring me, he’d probably better at least be open to the idea of hiring you too.” Buffy smiled. “I have every intention of recruiting you, by the way.”

He snorted. “I’ll bet that went over real well.”

“Giles said he was open to the idea,” Buffy continued triumphantly, as though Spike hadn’t spoken. “He said he thought the agency would be a good training ground. We’ll have to discuss it with Wesley and the others, of course, but the Council would be paying us.”

Spike frowned. “Hotel has lots of space,” he allowed.

“That’s what I thought.” Buffy grinned. “We could run two businesses at once.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know, Buffy. If Giles—”

“Giles doesn’t have a say over my life anymore,” Buffy said firmly, taking his hand in hers. “Spike, when I came to L.A., I told Giles why, and I told him that if things turned out the way I hoped, you would be with me. Wherever that ended up being. I’m through listening to people tell me who I can be with or who I can love.”

Spike took a deep breath. “Giles is the head of the Council, pet. He still has a lot of pull with you, an’ if he’s payin’ us—I’m just sayin’.”

“I know what you’re saying, and I won’t tell you that your concerns aren’t valid, but if we do this, we do it _our_ way, Spike.” Buffy looked him straight in the eye. “I lost you once. I refuse to do it again. I’ve had enough of living without you.”

Spike brought her hand to his mouth, kissing her knuckles reverently. “You’re bloody amazin’, luv.”

“So are you,” she replied. “So are you.”

~~~~~

The first trial hadn’t been bad. If there was one thing Connor did well, it was kill demons. They hadn’t called him the Destroyer for nothing, after all.

He wished now that he’d asked Angel more about Darla. His father had endured these trials in order to save her life while she’d been human, after Wolfram &amp; Hart had brought her back. As he’d told Dawn, there was so much he didn’t know about his father, about his mother.

Well, he knew what Holtz had taught him, but Connor was beginning to realize that it was barely half the story.

Connor had no idea what to expect for the second trial, but he couldn’t say he was terribly surprised to see a corridor with blazing walls and hot coals for the floor. There was a basin in the middle and a door on the other side.

His experience with the demon suggested that the basin wasn’t there for decoration; Connor figured it was probably holding something he needed to get out.

Hey, he hadn’t scored in the top ten percent on his SAT’s for nothing.

Connor remembered watching a video in his sociology class. They had been talking about religious fervor, and the subject of walking on coals came up. The teacher had insisted that it was all about mind over matter; if a person walked quickly enough, they wouldn’t be burned.

Of course, that also assumed that he was walking on normal coals.

He could feel the heat on the soles of his feet. It was just on the other side of unbearable, but he could tell that he wasn’t getting burned. What was going to be bad was dealing with the stone basin. If there was something inside of it that he needed, Connor knew that in the time it took for him to pull it out, he could easily get burned.

No, he would be burned.

In that moment, all the lessons that Holtz had taught him came into play. How to withstand pain, how to suppress fear, how to fight through the urge to turn and run. Connor doubted that his foster father would appreciate the fact that his teachings were now helping him to save the very vampire he’d trained Connor to hate.

Connor saw the key as he came up on the basin, and he clenched his teeth as he plunged his hand to the bottom. The acid burned his skin on contact, even as the heat from the coals began to burn his feet.

Once he had the key in hand, Connor ran—limped—towards the door, hurriedly unlocking it and falling through. His stomach clenched with the pain, and he took deep breaths, willing it away. There was one more trial to pass—he had to be strong.

You do anything to protect your family. His father had taught him that.

~~~~~

It was a quiet night, which was rare for the agency. Gunn was spending the evening with Anne, although he’d asked Wesley to call once they knew the outcome. Lorne had planned on heading over to his newly-purchased nightclub after he dropped Connor off to see how much progress the renovators had made.

So it was just Buffy and Spike somewhere in the hotel, and Wesley and Fred in the room they occasionally shared.

Cordelia, of course, was waiting for Connor and Angel to emerge from the trials.

Fred was stretched out next to Wesley on the bed, her head pillowed on his shoulder as he ran his fingers though her hair. “Mom and Dad were asking when we were coming to visit,” she said softly.

“When would you like to go?” he asked, tacitly letting her know that he was willing to go along with whatever plans she made.

“I don’t know.” She fiddled with one of the buttons on his shirt. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been home.”

“Perhaps this summer, then,” he suggested. Wesley somehow didn’t mind the thought of spending some time with Fred’s parents, not like he would have minded a visit with his own. Their approval had been so obvious—and so warm—when they’d passed through L.A. a few weeks ago, he thought that a week with them might be a nice vacation.

Not to leave out the fact that Wesley had never actually been to Texas. He rather thought he’d like to see the place Fred had grown up.

“That would be good,” she replied, echoing his thoughts. “There’s so much I want to show you. I mean, I know a lot of people make jokes about Texas and all, and it’s a small town, but—”

“But it’s home,” Wesley finished. “I’d like to take you to England one of these days. We could probably skip the visit with my parents, though.”

“Or just keep it short,” Fred corrected. “I’m sure they’d love to see you.”

Wesley chuckled, but there was no humor in the sound. “I find that highly unlikely.”

Fred was quiet. They hadn’t spoken much of Wesley’s father, but she got the impression that the cyborg version of Roger Wyndam-Pryce was eerily accurate. In essence, he wasn’t a particularly good father.

“Maybe we could just meet them for dinner.” She smiled. “I’ve never been to Europe before, so you could tell them I’m monopolizing all your time with touristy things.”

Wesley pressed a fond kiss to the top of her head. “That’s not a bad idea, sweetheart.”

A long silence fell, but it was not uncomfortable. They had been friends before they had become lovers, and that made a difference. It was not difficult to lie like this, spooned comfortably, talking of inconsequentials and plans for the future.

Avoiding the elephant in the room.

“It will be kind of weird to have Angel back,” Fred said softly, breaking the silence.

Wesley sighed. “Yes, I believe it will, but we’ll adjust. It will be fine.”

They didn’t mention the possibility that Connor would be unsuccessful, or that Angel would not come back.

~~~~~

The chains were a surprise, although maybe they shouldn’t have been. The stakes coming towards him—not a big surprise. Connor might not be a vampire, but the wall of pointy objects would kill him just the same.

“Well done, young man,” Jeeves said as he appeared off to Connor’s left. “I am impressed. You completed both of those trials even faster than your father.”

“That’s nice,” Connor said, trying to ignore the pain in his hand and the soles of his feet. “So what’s next? I get to fight something while I’m chained up?”

He didn’t actually believe that was how it was going to work, of course. He just wanted to get on with it.

Jeeves gave him a tight little smile. “No. This is where you die.”

Connor stared at him. “What? That’s it? I die so my dad can get his life back?”

“Essentially, yes,” Jeeves replied. “If you choose to willingly sacrifice yourself, Angel receives his life—as a human. I believe that was your stipulation.”

Connor’s eyes narrowed, remembering what Wesley had told him. “And that’s still okay, right? You checked before, but—”

“It’s possible,” Jeeves stated. “Of course, no one has ever asked for such a thing in the past, and it’s actually rather rare to have a child come to save a parent. It’s typically the other way around, or it’s a lover wishing to save their beloved.”

“This is my dad,” Connor said quietly. “He sacrificed himself for me.”

Jeeves tilted his head slightly. “You do realize that you’re giving nothing to the world, don’t you? You have the opportunity to be a true Champion, someone whose coming was foretold. Angel will be human, incapable of any real contribution to this fight.”

“That’s not the point,” Connor said quietly.

“Then what is the point?”

“He’s my father.” Connor set his jaw. “He doesn’t deserve to be stuck in Wolfram and Hart forever.”

“You don’t deserve to die,” Jeeves returned.

Connor shrugged as best he could. “Sure, I do. I’m a murderer.”

“Very well,” Jeeves stated. “As you wish.”

Connor didn’t bother closing his eyes. He would rather look his death in the eye.

~~~~~

Dawn was grateful that her sister hadn’t argued too much when she’d insisted on keeping Cordelia company while she waited for Connor and Angel. In some way, she wondered if she wasn’t intruding, but at the same time, she found it impossible to stay at the hotel, waiting for news.

Not that it was any easier to wait above the empty pool.

She rested her chin on her knees, stealing a glance at Cordelia, who had started pacing. “They’re going to be fine.”

“I know.” Cordy looked down at the younger girl, realizing that her pacing probably wasn’t helping matters any. She sat, sighing. “It’s just—”

“Waiting sucks.”

“Exactly.” Cordelia looked down into the empty pool, shuddering as she remembered the leap of faith that Connor had taken. It had nearly given her a heartattack.

Both of them stayed silent after that, neither knowing just what to say. It wasn’t like they were the best of friends; they just hadn’t wanted to wait at the Hyperion with the others.

Not when everyone else was coupled up, that was for sure.

A sound coming from behind them had them both scrambling to their feet. Angel stood there, his arm wrapped around Connor to keep the young man upright. “Angel?”

Cordelia’s voice trembled slightly, and Angel met her eyes, disbelief and wonder in his own. “Cordy—it’s done.”

Dawn hurried over and pulled Connor’s other arm over her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he said. “It’s just—painful.”

“Let’s get you to the car,” Cordelia said. “Good thing we decided to drive.”

“I wouldn’t be walking,” Connor said, trying to joke, but the pain in his voice caused the humor to fall flat.

Angel tightened his grip. “Let’s get you home, son.”

~~~~~

There had been a minor uproar when they arrived back at the Hyperion. Everyone had fussed over the newly-human Angel, but the concern had mostly been reserved for Connor. Although he wasn’t too badly injured, it would still be days before the burns on his feet and hand were completely healed.

Angel finally chased everyone out of Connor’s room, choosing to dress his burns himself. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” Connor noticed that Angel’s hands were shaking. “I should probably ask you the same thing.”

Angel was silent for a moment. “You shouldn’t have done it.”

“Why?” Connor asked.

“Because—” He stopped, met his son’s eyes. “I wanted you to be safe.”

Connor stared at him. “I was never going to be safe. Even hidden away, Vail still came after me. He almost killed my—you know.”

“You didn’t have to go through the trials for me, Connor,” Angel said. “I could have stayed at Wolfram and Hart.”

Connor shook his head. “No one wanted you there. _You_ didn’t want to be there.” There was a pause. “I owed you.”

“Connor—”

“I owed you.”

Angel had tried to respect Connor’s space. He hadn’t wanted to force the issue of their relationship on his son. At the moment, however, Angel couldn’t stand it any longer. He pulled Connor close, holding him tightly, feeling the boy’s arms come around him tentatively after a second’s hesitation.

“I love you,” he murmured. “I’ve always loved you.”

“I know.” There was another pause. “Dad.”

~~~~~

Angel entered Cordelia’s room slowly. He wasn’t exactly sure where he was supposed to stay, or how he was going to get the rest of his stuff, for that matter. All of his clothing was inside the Wolfram &amp; Hart building, and he thought it might be a good idea to stay away for a while.

Maybe he could send Wesley or one of the others inside for his things.

“Hey.” Angel watched as Cordelia turned from the window. “Did you get Connor settled?”

“Yeah, I did,” he replied. “He, uh, he called me dad.”

She beamed at him. “That’s great, Angel.”

“I feel like we’ve got a chance.”

“I think you’ve got a really good chance,” Cordelia replied. “So are you okay with this?”

“With being human?” Angel shrugged. “From what everyone has said so far, I didn’t think I had a choice.”

“You didn’t,” she said bluntly. “That doesn’t tell me how you’re dealing.”

Angel shook his head. “It’s weird, but it’s—” He stared at her. “It’s been such a long time—I don’t have to worry about losing my soul anymore.”

“No, you don’t.” Cordelia crossed the room to take his hand. “I take it you’re not going to run out and get yourself turned.”

Angel shook his head. “This wasn’t the way I thought it would happen, but now that it’s here, I wouldn’t give it up for anything.” He cupped her cheek. “You got me out of there.”

“Connor did most of the work,” she replied.

“You didn’t give up.”

“Like you would have given up on me,” Cordy shot back. “Just so you know, we’re starting over. From now on, it’s full speed ahead, never mind what’s happened in the past, never mind the stupidity of making deals with evil lawfirms. Capische?”

“Whatever you want,” Angel replied, showing that he had gotten just a little bit smarter over the last few months.

When they kissed, it was as sweet as either of them could have wished for. Two years of waiting had only heightened their desire.

It was an ending—and it was the beginning of a new life.


End file.
